(via you-mean-nothing-to-me)
Stop pretending you care.
I’ve been told this song tells the story of my life.
"No one will answer your prayers
until you take off that dress
No one will hear all your crying
until you take your last breath"
Perfume Genius, Learning (via souls-entwined)
(Source: winterkristall)
you walked right past me
and nothing mattered
I’ve turned self destructive
need to focus
need to disappear.
Who Are You and What are you Doing Here?: I wrote this last night when I was half awake.
So, Im weak to you?
I am merely a canvas for you to make mistakes on.
No, for the ‘mistakes’ you impress upon my mind are not erasable.
They aren’t something you can take back
My mind isn’t your artwork to create. It’s mine. Yet you insist, so I step aside and let you take over.
You begin…
(Source: tastefullyoffensive, via you-mean-nothing-to-me)
Opens Tonight, May 16, 6-8p:
“Men and Women”
Tom Wood
Thomas Erben Gallery, 526 W26th St., NYC (4th floor)
Wood has been recognized as a defining presence in early British color photography, along with Martin Parr and Paul Graham. The works at Thomas Erben are selected from Wood’s forthcoming pair of books, Men and Women (Steidl), on which he collaborated with artist Padraig Timoney. - thru June 22
Artist’s statement:
“The world seems to me increasingly incomprehensible, and there are times when I feel there isn’t anything that I know for certain. For me, making photographs (or painting, or whatever) is necessary to translate the unintelligible reality of being into a more coherent form. Or at least to illustrate my best guesses. There is vastly more nothing in the universe than something, and I try to create images that recognize the grace by which anything at all exists.”
(via justbeyondourcapacity)
"My dear,
Find what you love and let it kill you.
Let it drain you of your all.
Let it cling onto your back and weigh you down into eventual nothingness.
Let it kill you and let it devour your remains.
For all things will kill you, both slowly and fastly, but it’s much better to be killed by a lover."
Charles Bukowski
(Source: unculturedmag, via lipsandpens)
(Source: efedra, via blindsideddd)
