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..a few of a few things you can do in non-existance.


Only lovers left alive

August 16th
10:09 am

cybergata:

Elephants walking through a rain forest.

cybergata:

Elephants walking through a rain forest.

(via minutie)

(Source: naprasno, via danaboulos)

July 29th
6:10 am

dreamdeath:

Namika Kitaura

dreamdeath:

Namika Kitaura

(Source: , via kolps)

July 29th
6:10 am

(Source: xflowergypsiesx, via minimist)

July 27th
3:24 pm

July 25th
5:34 pm

Zisis Kardianos

July 22nd
4:54 pm

(Source: daysrunaway, via androyd5)

July 22nd
11:48 am

aubreylstallard:

David Lynch, Oh My Thoughts They Are So Mixed Up And Funny (2013)

aubreylstallard:

David Lynch, Oh My Thoughts They Are So Mixed Up And Funny (2013)

(Source: orangeikealamp, via gvmma)

July 8th
6:33 am

hnnhmcgrth:

Louise Bourgeois by Alex Vangelder

hnnhmcgrth:

Louise Bourgeois by Alex Vangelder

(Source: artistandstudio, via logermoore)

July 7th
5:26 am

(Source: chipsandbeermag, via danaboulos)

July 6th
5:48 am

Exhibition: Joseph Beuys: A Journey Through the Lower Rhine // Gerd Ludwig

Exhibition: Joseph Beuys: A Journey Through the Lower Rhine // Gerd Ludwig

(Source: instituteartist.com, via raveneuse)

July 6th
5:46 am

David Bowie with his 1976 painting of Iggy Pop, Portrait of J.O. 

David Bowie with his 1976 painting of Iggy Pop, Portrait of J.O. 

(Source: bowiepills, via danaboulos)

July 3rd
9:46 am

The Death King

I hired a carpenter

to build my coffin
and last night I lay in it,
braced by a pillow,
sniffing the wood,
letting the old king
breathe on me,
thinking of my poor murdered body,
murdered by time,
waiting to turn stiff as a field marshal,
letting the silence dishonor me,
remembering that I’ll never cough again.

Death will be the end of fear
and the fear of dying,
fear like a dog stuffed in my mouth,
feal like dung stuffed up my nose,
fear where water turns into steel,
fear as my breast flies into the Disposall,
fear as flies tremble in my ear,
fear as the sun ignites in my lap,
fear as night can’t be shut off,
and the dawn, my habitual dawn,
is locked up forever.

Fear and a coffin to lie in
like a dead potato.
Even then I will dance in my dire clothes,
a crematory flight,
blinding my hair and my fingers,
wounding God with his blue face,
his tyranny, his absolute kingdom,
with my aphrodisiac.

-Anne Sexton

s.t.