truly some people have no genre savviness whatsoever. A girl came back from the dead the other day and fresh out of the grave she laughed and laughed and lay down on the grass nearby to watch the sky, dirt still under her nails. I asked her if she’s sad about anything and she asked me why she should be. I asked her if she’s perhaps worried she’s a shadow of who she used to be and she said that if she is a shadow she is a joyous one, and anyway whoever she was she is her, now, and that’s enough. I inquired about revenge, about unfinished business, about what had filled her with the incessant need to claw her way out from beneath but she just said she’s here to live. I told her about ghosts, about zombies, tried to explain to her how her options lie between horror and tragedy but she just said if those are the stories meant for her then she’ll make another one. I said “isn’t it terribly lonely how in your triumph over death nobody was here to greet you?” and she just looked at me funny and said “what do you mean? The whole world was here, waiting”. Some people, I tell you.
simon vs the homo sapiens agenda character moodboard | bram greenfeld
It’s Cute Bram Greenfeld, of the soft eyes and soccer calves.
the dark
Black coat. Black dress. Black hat. Black car.
Jeanette Winterson, Night Side of the River; from ‘App-arition’
i’m not sure i’m capable of being loved right now / i feel safe in my quiet way of living and telling my secrets to thread & paper / i don’t know what i’d say if you asked me to know myself / more
― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Gentle Spirit
it's always a damn picture of a deer on here
☆skins 1 gen☆
it’s their’s to burn
sharing a cigarette with joan of arc - dante émile ( @orpheuslament ) // photography by brendon burton
tell me a secret, pass me your vape. You are the eyes seeing through God’s hand || he/him || 21
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