1. (Source: nordak, via papermagazine)

  2. (Source: pizzainthewild)


  3. "Farewells can be shattering, but returns are surely worse. Solid flesh can never live up to the bright shadow cast by its absence. Time and distance blur the edges; then suddenly the beloved has arrived, and it’s noon with its merciless light, and every spot and pore and wrinkle and bristle stands clear."
    — Margaret Atwood, from The Blind Assassin  (via violentwavesofemotion)

    (Source: hoomanao, via theagonistes)

  4. nevver:

    A Perfect Day for Bananafish, Corey Arnold

    (via papermagazine)

  5. (Source: pudeur, via czarkisian)

  6. weirdvintage:

    Frank Sinatra with pancakes (via World of Wonder)

    (via thebec)

  7. theladybadass:

    Eartha Kitt singing, I Want to Be Evil


  8. I constrict, like a snake, the boa. I’m catching my breath, chasing it. I’m built on anxiety, building this anxiety. It’s my aesthetic. My modern view and my tired time and my sticky, no good mind.

    What is a no good mind, anyway. 

    I dip my head under then rise. The water is as warm as it is stale. There’s a concerto playing because I’m a 20th century sham, a cliché, in a tub, underwritten. I watch as drops flee my skin and I think, I think I might expire. Dry up. Cease and desist. My being will shake into words and fall into letters and meet demise with the aid of an eraser or a slick case of whiteout. It will take place in an alley. Yeah, an alley.

    I’m scared of relevance. I’m scared of caring about relevance. I’m scared, (.) Let’s not bring it up. Instead, we’ll listen and we’ll absorb and we’ll be together. Me, you, the whiny harpsichord, the pretentious flute, the cello. It’s us, baby. It’s all us. 

  9. (Source: papermagazine)