i once existed & this is what i looked like

(Source: sickpage)

Tag(s): #sea
— Meryl Streep

(Source: bungalowintheburrough)


Hieronymus Bosch— The Temptation of St. Anthony Abbot, the Head of an Abbess Sits Atop a Whorehouse

Hieronymus Bosch— The Temptation of St. Anthony Abbot, the Head of an Abbess Sits Atop a Whorehouse

baptistes:

A TRIBE CALLED QUEST / VIBES AND STUFF

(Source: highrelease)

me reading my own posts: um no one cares asshole

(Source: killbill04)

The Story of Stuff, Annie Leonard

The Story of Stuff, Annie Leonard

gaydicks420:

the sims 4 announcements are so bleak and depressing out of context 

The Story of Stuff, Annie Leonard

The Story of Stuff, Annie Leonard

blackpaint20:

Dante hiding, Virgil calms Devils Italian 14th cent by Tony Harrison

blackpaint20:

Dante hiding, Virgil calms Devils Italian 14th cent by Tony Harrison

la-rinascente:

I am forever baffled by the American people’s inability to realize they are living and paying taxes in a terrorist state. What we call diplomatic intervention, the rest of the world calls brutal force. What we call civilian casualties, the rest of the world calls barbaric genocide.

solopintura:

John Singer Sargent

solopintura:

John Singer Sargent

Finally one night there was a high wind,
The trees looked as if they could do anything—
put down the other leg and walk away—
and every time the wind would rise
it sounded like a sudden heavy rain,
something coming down     and breaking,
and I looked out and the people seemed to be there
by accident. Deep in the park,
seen for an instant, a child all in white.
The wind kept opening the trees like doors and slamming them
until finally I could not tell, I saw the
outline of a man separate from the night
as if he were being cut out with scissors
from black paper, and then from the slit
the cold, dark cellar smell of
apples slowly came to me like
the release of the meaning

           the night we left Gran’s
so late, Daddy driving, drunk
baskets of McIntoshes in the back. The young man
suddenly appearing in front of the car as if
cut out of the night—we swerved—
and the picture of my father leaned from its frame
and through the pitch-dark opening
the killer entered my world and left the
passage open.

-Sharon Olds, Satan Says

— David Sedaris, Me Talk Pretty One Day