Post(s) tagged with "lovely"

I can never tell if I’m disappearing or coming to.

I can never tell if I’m disappearing or coming to.

Source: M-O-R-T-E-L-L-E

And so I said nothing and rode you in and out of the roomsWhere we had stretched the boundaries of the soulLike an endless sheetAnd I felt you waking up between my legs.

And so I said nothing and rode you in and out of the rooms
Where we had stretched the boundaries of the soul
Like an endless sheet
And I felt you waking up between my legs.

But shrapnel is shrapnel and I am alone with the things I have done.

But shrapnel is shrapnel and I am alone with the things I have done.

Oh shit, this is what happens when I drink…I think I need to tell people things.  I think I have emotions that I do not.  I think I’m attracted to people I think of as basically nonsexual in real life (i.e. sobriety).  I think I want to be friends with people that are completely not conducive to my happiness and hardly qualify for the title of “good human being.”  I swear to god, sometimes the godawful decisions that result from the good feelings you get while drunk are the worst.  My own version of “The Hangover” simply consists of facepalming when I think about how nice I was to people who don’t deserve it or how I really shouldn’t have exchanged numbers with so-and-so.  Don’t forgive people while drunk!  Don’t say you’re sorry!  Don’t tell them they’re hot (they aren’t)!

Oh shit, this is what happens when I drink…I think I need to tell people things.  I think I have emotions that I do not.  I think I’m attracted to people I think of as basically nonsexual in real life (i.e. sobriety).  I think I want to be friends with people that are completely not conducive to my happiness and hardly qualify for the title of “good human being.”  I swear to god, sometimes the godawful decisions that result from the good feelings you get while drunk are the worst.  My own version of “The Hangover” simply consists of facepalming when I think about how nice I was to people who don’t deserve it or how I really shouldn’t have exchanged numbers with so-and-so.  Don’t forgive people while drunk!  Don’t say you’re sorry!  Don’t tell them they’re hot (they aren’t)!

Breathe me deeply and don’t forget.

Breathe me deeply and don’t forget.

“Hello, it’s me.  I’m just getting home and I’m listening to Marissa Nadler and I just wanted you to know that I love you.  And that I’m so sorry.”

“Hello, it’s me.  I’m just getting home and I’m listening to Marissa Nadler and I just wanted you to know that I love you.  And that I’m so sorry.”

psydae:

(by ∆ matt caplin ∆)

psydae:

(by ∆ matt caplin ∆)

Source: Flickr / mattcaplinphotography

youngandbanging:

Made by Diego Soprana


The woman is perfected
Her dead

Body wears the smile of accomplishment,
The illusion of a Greek necessity

Flows in the scrolls of her toga,
Her bare

Feet seem to be saying:
We have come so far, it is over.

Each dead child coiled, a white serpent,
One at each little

Pitcher of milk, now empty
She has folded

Them back into her body as petals
Of a rose close when the garden

Stiffens and odors bleed
From the sweet, deep throats of the night flower.

The moon has nothing to be sad about,
Staring from her hood of bone.

She is used to this sort of thing.
Her blacks crackle and drag.

Sylvia Plath, "Edge"

youngandbanging:

Made by Diego Soprana

The woman is perfected
Her dead

Body wears the smile of accomplishment,
The illusion of a Greek necessity

Flows in the scrolls of her toga,
Her bare

Feet seem to be saying:
We have come so far, it is over.

Each dead child coiled, a white serpent, One at each little Pitcher of milk, now empty She has folded Them back into her body as petals Of a rose close when the garden Stiffens and odors bleed From the sweet, deep throats of the night flower. The moon has nothing to be sad about, Staring from her hood of bone. She is used to this sort of thing. Her blacks crackle and drag.

Sylvia Plath, "Edge"

Source: youngandbanging

I feel like I read/hear this phrase pretty frequently: “I got this tattoo to remember my mother/father/sibling/friend/dog/etc. by.”  I mean, I understand getting a tattoo to honor somebody’s memory or presence in your life, but to remember them?  If you don’t remember this person’s existence pretty regularly, I kinda think getting a tattoo for them isn’t the best choice on your part, buddy.

I feel like I read/hear this phrase pretty frequently: “I got this tattoo to remember my mother/father/sibling/friend/dog/etc. by.”  I mean, I understand getting a tattoo to honor somebody’s memory or presence in your life, but to remember them?  If you don’t remember this person’s existence pretty regularly, I kinda think getting a tattoo for them isn’t the best choice on your part, buddy.

“There were cathedrals falling out of your eyes.”

“There were cathedrals falling out of your eyes.”

Yours Bluely

I taught myself to survive a four-story fall.

Sam, 22, native New Yorker living in southern California. Not for the faint of heart (though my life is mostly tl;dr). I dig avocado, rant often, and have excessive levels of empathy in my system. Fondu au noir.

-I do makeup for film, photography, events, etc.
-I would love to do yours: Portfolio//Contact info.
-Sometimes I write about serious things.
-I'm moving to Brooklyn in one month; see "Things I Will Miss In California" for more on that.
-Reasons Why Being Single Is Fucking Awesome (A Work of Fiction); but seriously, it is

Self-centered bitterness, now on Twitter.


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