Paper sculptures by Peter Gentenaar

(via slowartday)

(via vital-energy)


René Groebli

From The Eye I Love


6. You worry too much.

7. You think too much.

"2 good 2 texta me back"
My bed and hookah aren’t sassy

You’re one of the happiest, nicest, most popular people I know
Ha not at all
Well you’re good at faking it
You’ll never know

Teachers don’t believe me when I tell them I’m going under the knife… School struggles are real.

Note, send them a picture of your uterus scrapings and say surgery is real.

You told me you didn’t know,
You told me until next time,
You told me see you later,

You always hugged me,
You always kissed me,
You all left.

She’s the kind of girl a guy meets when he’s too young, and he fucks up because there’s too much living to do. But later he realizes she’s perfect.

Californication  (via mviso)

(via you-mean-nothing-to-me)


Jeff Lindsay, Darkly Dreaming Dexter

I have emotions

that are like newspapers that

read themselves.

I go for days at a time

trapped in the want ads.

I feel as if I am an ad

for the sale of a haunted house:

18 rooms


I’m yours

ghosts and all.

Richard Brautigan, Revenge of the Lawn: Stories 1962-1970 (via sad-plath)

(via langleav)

Have a mind that is open to everything, and attached to nothing.

But why do I notice everything? She thought. Why must I think? She did not want to think. She would rather force her mind to become a blank and lie back, and accept quietly, tolerantly, whatever came.

Virginia Woolf, from The Years (via ohfairies)

(via ohfairies)

I enjoy controlled loneliness. I like wandering around the city alone. I’m not afraid of coming back to an empty flat and lying down in an empty bed. I’m afraid of having no one to miss, of having no one to love.

Kuba Wojewodzki, Polish journalist and comedian. (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

(via lesscold)