(Source: vibesgoodvibes, via thefreakinyoureyes)
[video]
(via waytogojerk)
My latest catastrophe
Lies in stop motion
Featuring a painted glass figure
Delicate and balanced
Dancing with a tin man
A waltz that spans
Memories that existed
Far before I came into the picture
I reach and
She shatters much like
Fifty Jupiters colliding with
A stone on a ring
A bag of flesh is me
I cannot protect you like he
Metal bending the shape of
Violent protection
Into the galaxy
I am so in love with you that there isn’t anything else. — Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms (via keptout)
(via jefffleisher)
Haiku format. From Toothpaste For Dinner.
Photographs fade over time
My darling, my sweet serpent
Tangled in your tail
Of intricate detail
That flails in the squeeze
Of jealousy
I can pose how you like
And smile to mimic
Catalogs of clothing magazines
A mannequin in distress
Wearing a party dress
Carrying a purse
Speaking in accents
Foreign to your liking
(Source: ghostmanufacturingmachine, via run-boy)
(via vonnegutphile)
(Source: henrycharlesbukowski, via ashes-fall)
“Hold onto me…” by explodingdog
[more comics here]
(via explodingdog)
The smell of her hair, the taste of her mouth, the feeling of her skin seemed to have got inside him, or into the air all around him. She had become a physical necessity. — George Orwell, 1984 (via suiicune)
(Source: sadexistences, via aaroncontreras)
(Source: ummagumma-, via the-terrible-uncertainty)
[video]
(Source: markwahlbergsthirdnipple, via ivorykeys)