untitled by j. j. brauner on Flickr.
WOW~
How strange it is. We have these deep terrible lingering fears about ourselves and the people we love. Yet we walk around, talk to people, eat and drink. We manage to function. The feelings are deep and real. Shouldn’t they paralyze us? How is it we can survive them, at least for a little while? We drive a car, we teach a class. How is it no one sees how deeply afraid we were, last night, this morning? Is it something we all hide from each other, by mutual consent? Or do we share the same secret without knowing it? Wear the same disguise?
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Oh….disguise….take off ur mask and show me urself truly…. Don DeLillo, White Noise (via bookmania) |
I was never really insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched.
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I touched…..but she didnt lol…. Edgar Allan Poe (via lipsticksmiles) |
I meet you. I remember you. Who are you? You’re destroying me. You’re good for me. How could I know this city was tailor-made for love? How could I know you fit my body like a glove? I like you. How unlikely. I like you. How slow all of a sudden. How sweet. You cannot know. You’re destroying me. You’re good for me. You’re destroying me. You’re good for me. I have time. Please, devour me. Deform me to the point of ugliness. Why not you? Why not you in this city and in this night, so like other cities and other nights you can hardly tell the difference? I beg of you.
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Wooooot~ DEVOUR ME plz….. Hiroshima Mon Amour, written by Marguerite Duras, 1959 (via bromoyoudidnt) |
