archivemailbox me links honey bunny

(Source: vhspositive, via mollysoda)

(Source: deadcolour, via arvidabystrom)

ooo // karen o

don’t tell me that they’re all the same
'cause even the sound of his name
carries me over their reach
back to some golden beach
where only he remains

(Source: radtracks, via 3babe)

5265ad:

If you’re not kissing me what are you really doing with your time?

(via nickjonasstillhasdiabetes)

blastedheath:

Jonas Wood (American, b. 1977), Grid Pot 3, 2014. Oil and acrylic on linen, 25 x 20 in.

blastedheath:

Jonas Wood (American, b. 1977), Grid Pot 3, 2014. Oil and acrylic on linen, 25 x 20 in.

(via jonathanrichman)

(Source: themileender, via magicbuffet)

bobbydoherty:

for new york magazine

bobbydoherty:

for new york magazine

(via harrycudmore)

:-)

taking selfies in brie's room because she went home for the weekend and i miss her lots 

taking selfies in brie's room because she went home for the weekend and i miss her lots 

"

At night,
when the party is over,
we stumble home like drunken toddlers
stopping for milkshakes on the way.

You say
that we should stop by my house
instead of parting. I do not know your middle name

but I agree anyway. I do not know the day
you were born, or how you like your coffee.
I do not know how your skin tastes,
but I am willing to learn.

And then,
it is small talk on the sidewalk,
touching on my porch steps,
short breaths,
slight death.

And then, it is my bed,
and in the dark I can pretend you are
someone you aren’t. It is wet. I am shaking
trying to feel something
beyond my body. I do not feel small here.

I feel fear. I feel limbs bent back
by childhood debt. Death trap.
I feel flesh, blurred breath,

I feel forcing myself to moan
when you touch my breasts.
My friends say that this is the best
it gets. I feel lips against hips
and broken wrists.

And it’s over.

I put a sweater on. I ask you to leave.
And now I am drunk,
and pleading with a god - I do not know
where you were born. I do not know
if you know that I am more than
a pretty face and small hands and a waste
of precious space. I do not know
if I will see you again, or if I want to.

The milkshake is a puddle on my floor.
I hear the door slam
and your car pull out of my driveway.
I am alone again,
worried you did not think I was slim
enough, worried I am not tough,
worrying I will never be touched tenderly
by another man.

I pull out strands of my hair.
I wonder what parts of me
you have taken.

"
My Last 10 Kisses Have Felt The Same; Hannah Beth Ragland (via allmymetaphors)

(via 3babe)

(Source: morisv, via teddykitten)

grillwave:

The Growlers - People Don’t Change Blues

(Source: wiltedsighs, via hex-girlfriend)

taishou-kun:

Hashimoto Okiie 橋本興家 (1899-1993)
Girl and Irises - 1952

taishou-kun:

Hashimoto Okiie 橋本興家 (1899-1993)

Girl and Irises - 1952

(via nobrainslob)

ryanpanos:

Movie Theaters in South India | Stefanie Zoche

(via browlberry)


Yoko Honda

Theme