Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
Posted 6 hours ago / 896 notes #quotes / Via: sirkaynine
T.S. Eliot (via observando)
Posted 1 day ago / 5,951 notes / Via: inkterests





(Source: dark-thirst)

Posted 2 days ago / 739 notes / Via: inkterests


Benjamin Heath


Benjamin Heath

Posted 3 days ago / 3,725 notes #bones / Via: weenyah

(Source: nimblefoot)

Posted 4 days ago / 1,440 notes / Via: sirkaynine


by Hillary (Rachopin77)

Posted 4 days ago / 3,720 notes / Via: randomstupidchaos


inspirational message or paranoid sorcerers? #nyc #graffiti


inspirational message or paranoid sorcerers? #nyc #graffiti

Posted 5 days ago / 8,762 notes / Via: weenyah


Human Feelings As A Drug by Valerio Loi

Posted 6 days ago / 126 notes / Via: necrophilia-x-ame

Posted 1 week ago / 289,563 notes #quotes / Via: try-to-stay-positive

(Source: flirtey)

Posted 1 week ago / 250,062 notes #hands / Via: sirkaynine


A show of hands


Posted 1 week ago / 247 notes / Via: sirkaynine


Found geometry by Sander Meisner

Posted 1 week ago / 4,867 notes / Via: thehellinsideyourhead

(Source: dontletmewalkaway)

Posted 1 week ago / 111 notes / Via: sunyoungwrites


There are sounds that I’ve never heard, but only heard of.  Like the sound of the great veil that ripped in two when Jesus died.  I wonder whether Caesar’s voice was hoarse and rattling when he said whatever he actually said to Brutus, or whether the blood pooled silent and thickening beneath his back.  I wonder what noises my little dog made when he was born, whether it was anything like the “shush” he made when he crumbled in my arms.  What did the first cicada that ever existed sound like?  Did it cry like it was mourning the sun back then too?  When Ravel placed his index finger on B-flat, when Barber gathered his breath like a stack of worn love letters, when Hemingway pulled the fucking trigger, I suppose it was like the clatter that a deck of cards makes when it spills out of hands—loose and un-contained.  I pull and I pull and I pull at the drawstrings, at the cursive of one man’s scrawl, in an attempt to see the line that separates day from night, but the universe is empty—three shot glasses collecting only what cannot be.  

I tore my curtains in half this morning.  Just to hear the end as it was meant to be.

Posted 1 week ago / 138,074 notes / Via: sabrinaisafallenwoman


Vancouver: Never before have I been in a city that was as able and eager to strike up a conversation.

Posted 1 week ago / 54 notes / Via: vacilandoelmundo





writing randomosities ofpensandswordsideas and plunnies and musings, and stuff. yup. but mostly inspirational type pictures or whatever, I'm good at finding those. haha.

WATCH OUT, though, I can tend to get pretty sentimental about writing in general. XD



marmarmar :3


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