Greetings from London. The streets are dank but the ketchup tastes weird. (at London Backpackers)

Greetings from London. The streets are dank but the ketchup tastes weird. (at London Backpackers)

How did I get here? (at South of the Border)

How did I get here? (at South of the Border)

Soulmate vibes👯 @heathaarudow  (at The Refinery)

Soulmate vibes👯 @heathaarudow (at The Refinery)

(Source: posthawk)

Yes, I read. I have that absurd habit. I like beautiful poems, moving poetry, and all the beyond of that poetry. I am extraordinarily sensitive to those poor, marvelous words left in our dark night by a few men I never knew.

Louis Aragon, Treatise on Style  (via mirroir)

(Source: observando)

I was not, I was, I am not, I have no more desires

A common inscription on Roman tombstones during the decline of the empire (via touchlines)

(Source: brivid)

underwater-stepmom:

i want to stay with you until the morning comes and we’ll pretend our lives have just begun

(Source: lizwiener)

(Source: trynsave)

marisachafetz:

Olivia Bee and Andrew Lyman for Yen magazine part 2 by Marisa Chafetz

Queen Bee

nevver:

Kafka

(Source: biitemelovely)


A line of roses lines the street where Michael Brown was shot

A line of roses lines the street where Michael Brown was shot

(Source: bvsedjesus)

(Source: edible-emotions)

igotopinions:

Night on Earth week begins with the platonic ideal of WInona Ryder…