31 Jul 14 at 3 pm

Hey

tags: Morning  lipstick  me  selfie 
Hey
 1
27 Jul 14 at 8 pm
tags: Thoughts 

And when things get dark I like the taste
Guitar strings between my teeth,
Eyelashes drawn
Kiss my neck and I play prey
You watch as we fade away

 36241
18 Jul 14 at 5 pm

If the rain must fall... by (Corrie) | Website

(Source: r2--d2, via r2--d2)


If the rain must fall... by (Corrie) | Website
 2824
18 Jul 14 at 5 pm

asylum-art:

Silence Effects photography

on flickr

Yuliana Mendoza aka Silence Effects is an abstract/ambient photographer based out of La Spezia, Italia.

 

(via ironandbloods)

 51
12 Jul 14 at 10 am

midtowncomics:

Check out Dawn of the Planet of the Apes this weekend, and let us know your thoughts!! 


Holy shit, watch this movie.
midtowncomics:

Check out Dawn of the Planet of the Apes this weekend, and let us know your thoughts!! 



Holy shit, watch this movie.
 58949
10 Jul 14 at 12 am

highfashionandmakeup:

Lupita Nyong’o for Vogue US  July 2014

(Source: highfashionandmakeup, via miraze)

 5694
28 Jun 14 at 4 am

asylum-art:

'We are the Music Makers and the Dreamers of Dreams'

Photography & styling by Amberly Valentine for  Hedonist Magazine, December  2013 
Hair: Guiseppe Bulzis
Make-up: Akari Sugino
Models: Shannon Brennan & Irina Roshik

 

sleepwiththelighton:

Untitled by EricaCoburn on Flickr.
 5
28 Jun 14 at 4 am

miraze:

wandering paris (photos and blog post soo00n)

miraze:

wandering paris (photos and blog post soo00n)

One day I was naked on the windowsill in the white of day, overcast, strange for la
And an Asian man stepped out and saved me from stepping out, maybe
And I thought about the days when I stood on the windowsill of my host family’s tidy loft (a postulant olive branch between the subtly austere father and hoveringly uptight mother)
Surveying the unripened tangerine outsides; the corridored buildings sinking into the jaundice of the earth, but sweetly and murmuringly, the wires of evening scored with drunken male laughter
I thought then that this sweet onion dream would warm me in its layers and carry me into the dark navy night—across the window step—unfettered
I uploaded a picture of my room and self in France in stark white light
And the windowsill, four years later, would graze me with a childhood falsehood, a childhood treasure, and my mother’s milky skin
(I dreamt three days before of soft hands letting go, and I thought it was my mother letting me go, but red polo sleeve and slendered fingers and surfacing veins; me letting myself go)

I was naked on the windowsill and thought I could be a photo still, the sounds the glaring highlight, my ebbing heart a lovely darkroom error

I was naked on the windowsill and he yanked me dropping plunging descending gliding to the bed

I hissed and narrowed my vision with two locks of hair, narrowed into a grey wolf I channel when I must fight with my bones
but I look
at my hands and they are mine and my mother’s soft skin
And he is my father’s warm chest and (once) tender (now) stubborn eyes
And his grasp around mine, our skin in faultless contrast
And I mute into velutinous posture (poise)
His hands are more fluid than mine, larger; we cohere stronger than a cross cradle but weaker than the clasp of marble statues
It is gentle and delicate as I witness faultlessness (perfection) in the nest of “enough”

The other day I sneezed in the shower and he said “bless you” from outside the ivory room.