This is so tgit.
Jesus Christ Superstar is playing, and I shall be... →
How I despise the wafted odor of an oil spill…
The Murder Mile: Mary Mackey, "Desire" →
in my dreams I hold my lovers next to me all at once and ask them what was it I desired? my hands are full of their heads like bunches of cut roses blond hair, brown hair, red, black, their eyes are pools of bewilderment staring up at me from the bouquet what was it I desired? I ask again was it your bodies? did I hope by draping your flesh over me I could escape ...
Art for Hart's sake.
Of high school, I miss these: art class, music history, choir, theater, …everyone.
Lower range than soprano, darker. Vocal range : A3 to F5. Common roles : Witches, Bitches. (Yussss).
Yo wish, ma command. →
What was once our President Lincoln’s head is now that of a unicorn’s.
Images. Millions of images. That’s what I eat.– William S. Burroughs
Welcome back to ears, Devendra. We missed you.
up into the silence the green silence with a white earth in it you will(kiss me)go out into the morning the young morning with a warm world in it (kiss me)you will go on into the sunlight the fine sunlight with a firm day in it you will go(kiss me down into your memory and a memory and memory i)kiss me,(will go) - e. e. cummings
Clair de Lune - Debussy
Why is it that I can never shake this perpetual feeling of guilt?
GET THE NET !
Future Islands—Tin Man
“Tango Whiskeyman” by Can
furor poeticus · an inspired frenzy in poets
LOOKBOOK.nu: moi, je joue →
Feet, what do I need you for when I have wings to fly?– Frida Kahlo, 1953