Brilliant watch. Do you claim to be creative?
Countdown to Dawn.
A mangled heap of clothes on the other side of bed. The bed-sheet wrapped in a ball and languishing near my foot. The still fan, staring from above, peeking from beyond the darkness. The laptop screen bathing me in a soft luminiscence. My thoughts stagnating in chaos. My wishes trying to be reborn. My life hurtling down, wishing it is the rabbit-hole.
"A burning effigy, of all what I used to be."
holy shit
who made this
fuck i am reblogging this on every blog i own
OMG! They killed Kenny!
(via nicheoutofhere)
Ernest Hemingway with his Cats
This guy had that delicious strain of madness that allows defenestration of sanity without a trace of guilt.
And cats were just a jarring note of normalcy.
Where be my story.
Every conversation can lead to a story. Even the silent ones in your head.
Have you found your story?
(Source: soakupthesun2014)
Words
Is it possible to love someone without even understanding them fully? That is how I feel about words. I love them for what they do, more than for what they are or how they do it.
