nickdrake: lords by Jim Morrison →
Look where we worship. We all live in the city. The city forms- often physically, but inevitably psychically- a circle. A Game. A ring of death with sex at its center. Drive towards outskirts of city suburbs. At the edge of discover zones of sophisticated vice and boredom, child prosti- …
Illusions are to the soul what atmosphere is to the earth. Roll up that tender...– Virginia Woolf’s Orlando (via magicinmyeyes) (via suzywire)
do you realize?
sugarspun: that you have the most beautiful face