• we build our own inferno

  • nanon. leave me messages for the morning? please? like who are you and where have you gone? i miss you, nanon. 

  • booksandpublishing:

Had to share this magnificence with you all. It’s from my weekend at Durham. UK has a way of blowing my mind. I’ve been here three years but still walk around wide-eyed. Though in all fairness, I always walk around wide-eyed. Especially when I take time to look up from my books.
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  • hellanne:

by Agu Lepkie
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Breakfast at Tiffany’s (1961) 
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  • "Maybe my limbs are made
    mostly for decoration,
    like the way I feel about
    persimmons. You can’t
    really eat them. Or you
    wouldn’t want to. If you grab
    the soft skin with your fist
    it somehow feels funny,
    like you’ve been here
    before and uncomfortable,
    too, like you’d rather
    squish it between your teeth
    impatiently, before spitting
    the soft parts back up
    to linger on the tongue like
    burnt sugar or guilt.
    For starters, it was all
    an accident, you cut
    the right branch
    and a sort of light
    woke up underneath,
    and the inedible fruit
    grew dark and needy.
    Think crucial hanging.
    Think crayon orange.
    There is one low, leaning
    heart-shaped globe left
    and dearest, can you
    tell, I am trying
    to love you less."
    "Crush," Ada Limón 

    (Source: commovente)

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  • penamerican:

"As I’ve grown older, I’ve grown more convinced there’s nothing that shouldn’t be talked about. If we think we’re protecting each other, we’re not." - Jonathan Safran Foer
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  • my-chemical-nothing:

mmmm heineken
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