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April 10 2013

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Reposted by2B-proudeffigy

April 06 2013

If I could I would turn
Back into dust
You would look so good to me
I could almost taste it

One moment I'm a king
The next minute I'm nothing
I just wanted to feel alright
But it's not that simple

I get low low low low low low
On my own
I get low low low low low low
On my own

In the palm of my hand
An empire summoned
As if it was born
All substance crumbled

It was a vain attempt
At the meaning of life
I should have better ways
Of spending my time

Like climb the mountain
Like sail the sea
Like build my house up
Or start my family

It's time to get out
It's time to make a living
I reach the summit
But I come tumblin' back down

I get low low low low low low
On my own
I get low low low low low low
On my own
— Timber Timbre 'I get low'
Reposted byhitomikingswayy

April 02 2013

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by Ekaterina Bazhenova
Reposted bypeptodowicznocnatesciowasophchlodnik

March 29 2013

I told her to turn the bill over. She read it and laughed. It was a little poem about I wanted her to come and see the night with me.
'I'd love to, Chiquito, but I have a date with my boyfriend.'
'Can't you shake him?'
'No, no, I don't.' she said sadly and I loved the way she said it.
— Jack Kerouac "On the road"

March 25 2013

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by Francesca Woodman
Reposted bysave-picture-asbirkeBeatrixmarionettefusselchenwesolljanealicejoneserlebarmleczny

March 19 2013

Wohin reitest du?'
'Ich weiß es nicht', sagte ich, 'nur weg von hier, nur weg von hier. Immerfort weg von hier, nur so kann ich mein Ziel erreichen.'
'Du kennst also dein Ziel?' fragte er.
'Ja', antwortete ich, 'ich sag es doch, >Weg-von-hier<, das ist mein Ziel.
— Unterwegs mit Franz Kafka
Reposted bybirkewiefoen

March 16 2013

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Reposted bygregregWatermellonShaunihirondellemikrokosmosperversities

March 13 2013

Der Mensch lebt durch den Kopf
Der Kopf reicht ihm nicht aus
Versuch es nur, von deinem Kopf
Lebt höchstens eine Laus.
   Denn für dieses Leben
   Ist der Mensch nicht schlau genug.
   Niemals merkt er eben
   Allen Lug und Trug.

Ja, mach nur einen Plan
Sei nur ein großes Licht!
Und mach dann noch 'nen zweiten Plan
Gehn tun sie beide nicht.
   Denn für dieses Leben
   Ist der Mensch nicht schlecht genug.
   Doch sein höhres Streben
   Ist ein schöner Zug.

Ja, renn nur nach dem Glück
Doch renne nicht zu sehr!
Denn alle rennen nach dem Glück
Das Glück rennt hinterher.
   Denn für dieses Leben
   Ist der Mensch nicht anspruchslos genug
   Drum ist all sein Streben
   Nur ein Selbstbetrug.
— Bertolt Brecht 'Das Lied von der Unzulänglichkeit menschlichen Strebens' aus 'Die Dreigroschenoper'
Reposted bybirke birke

March 09 2013

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Rive Gauche, Paris by The Sartorialist

March 08 2013

To improve, be stupid and foolish.

March 04 2013

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Catherine Deneuve and her sister

March 03 2013

A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent on arriving.
— Lao Tzu
Reposted bybirke birke

November 20 2012

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by Mert & Marcus

November 15 2012

Where's your will to be weird?
— Jim Morrison
Reposted byahjou ahjou

November 08 2012

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Reposted bypokiereszowanazurScreamforyourlifeMojeZwojeHeddafryga

November 03 2012

They danced down the streets like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!"
— Jack Kerouac "On the road"

October 18 2012

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By Francesca Woodman
Reposted byicelandinthesunlenifcafreddymyloveshadowlandplusgoniminus

October 16 2012

My capacity for salaciousness is tremendous. My greatest pleasure is looking at and touching exposed flesh. I am voracious in my admiration of a woman’s body. I adore every bit: an elegant clavicle, the curve of the lower back, a plump bum, a soft belly, long fingers, slim arms, the fleshy tops of the thighs, pointed toes, a hip’s curve, parted lips, a long swan neck, flushed cheeks, gapped teeth, a bruised knee, pale breasts, the muscles of an outer thigh, worrying fingers, stray locks of hair escaping a ponytail, a tan-line tracing the memory of summer around the shoulders and down the back, tattoos decorating skin like bookmarks, tiny scars that recall aching nostalgia, a pert nose, glowing bronze flesh, downy pubic hair, shorn locks revealing the most kissable part of the neck, a strong profile, delicate wrists, thick dark lashes, spectacularly curved brows, freckled shoulders, a jutted hipbone, a connect the dots puzzle of beauty marks, a bit lower lip tugged between teeth, tight pink nipples, painted lips, a furrowed brow, curls falling over a shoulder, skin so pale that delicate blue lines can be traced.
There is something luscious and lovely in every woman so long as she possesses confidence, and if she does not, there is something luscious and lovely lurking beneath, waiting to reveal itself.
— bohemea

October 13 2012

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Isabeli Fontana for i-D by Daniele + Iango, Fall 2012

October 06 2012

Seven simple rules of going into hiding: one, never trust a cop in a raincoat. Two, beware of enthusiasm and of love, both are temporary and quick to sway. Three, if asked if you care about the world's problems, look deep into the eyes of he who asks, he will never ask you again. Four, never give your real name. Five, if ever asked to look at yourself, don't. Six, never do anything the person standing in front of you cannot understand. And finally seven, never create anything, it will be misinterpreted, it will chain you and follow you for the rest of your life.
— "I'm not there" 'Arthur'
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