Discerning the silent black.
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But I, being poor, have only my dreams. I have spread my dreams under your feet. Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams.

— William Butler Yeats (via larmoyante)

p1ssblog:

By David Lynch

p1ssblog:

By David Lynch

(Source: p1ssoff, via mindgardens)

candycoats:

Left 4 Propane 2

candycoats:

Left 4 Propane 2

(via zackisontumblr)

(Source: jaseon, via doughnot)

follovver:

people who dont wet their toothbrush before using it are strange and should not be trusted

(via doughnot)

Ground Zero

This looks painfully similar. The brick road still has the stench of a blood battle fresh within the gaping recesses of the bricks. There is no sky, only smoke. Cries of anguish and disgust echo inside your head as you look around frantically for an escape. The cries are in your head. The stench is real. This happened earlier. You walked through here. You were wounded permanently and indelibly. Your heart still aches from pain and disease. Ground zero again. You realize only you have to take it from here, so you sit on the sidewalk and absorb the fumes boiling out of the blood tears.

sindielissexy:

Every damn time I sign up for anything online.

sindielissexy:

Every damn time I sign up for anything online.

(via sindielissexy)