(Source: thehighroller5, via louque)
man fucks woman:
subject, verb, object.
subject, verb, object.
—Catharine MacKinnon (via earlyfrost)
(Source: firstwavefeminist, via fuckyeahexistentialism)
(via maviemonamour)
(via doctorofnothing)
『Teenage Hormones』: I proposed to her on the grease-slicked kitchen floor, an onion ring...
I proposed to her on the grease-slicked kitchen floor, an onion ring in my hand. Had it not been for the spillage of said-vegetable whilst we were in the midst of the process of preparing in for frying, I would never have found myself on my knee, delivering my age old proposition to her, “Flame…
Love hinders death. Love is life. All, everything that I understand, I understand only because I love. Everything is, everything exists, only because I love. Everything is united by it alone. Love is God, and to die means that I, a particle of love, shall return to the general and eternal source.
—Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace (via merelyliving)
(via wildnessliesinwait)
(via louque)
The pure ferocity of the guitar riff in this song makes me want to commit random acts of violence.
A small night storm blows
Saying ‘falling is the essence of a flower’
Preceding those who hesitate— Yukio Mishima’s death poem
I see things in a very atmospheric way— maybe it’s my mind or my waning eye-sight, but the world to me always looks like a burning fish-eye photograph or a starkly-lit stage-show.
People actually are monsters. I see their insides like w-rays sometimes, with fur on their faces, tongues hanging out their bleeding mouths and their eyes-alight. But somehow, seeing them in such manner draws a smile on my face.
..keep going…
(Source: wanderring, via maviemonamour)
(Source: freakfucking, via hediondo)
