(via ickyerr-explicit)

alacanno:

Fear and loathing in Las Vegas

(via freckledhips)

Good evening, Clarice.

(via hogwarding)

The Virgin Suicides (1999)

(via acomas)

I think there is a general misconception that you write poems because you “have something to say.” I think, actually, that you write poems because you have something echoing around in the bone-dome of your skull that you cannot say. Poetry allows us to hold many related tangential notions in very close orbit around each other at the same time. The “unsayable” thing at the center of the poem becomes visible to the poet and reader in the same way that dark matter becomes visible to the astrophysicist. You can’t see it, but by measure of its effect on the visible, it can become so precise a silhouette you can almost know it.

Rebecca Lindenberg, from Why Write Poetry? (via starlitewalker)

(via thestagnantpool)

sexflyn:

I would look so cute on you.

(via theredghosts)

(via call-me-senpai)

(via call-me-senpai)

armageddonnn:

how i can be every single character on this show will never cease to amaze me.

(via ladyofthewild)

(via ickyerr-explicit)

lovingslut:

Legs. I got ‘em.

(via ickyerr-explicit)

(via ickyerr-explicit)

(via highrapunzel)

(via highrapunzel)

(via ruinedchildhood)