January 2009
1 post
Horrorshow.
cashville: “A cut down tree strikes the roses, fades the life, and rolls to it’s final resting place. Not to say that a symbol is of lesser value than the frames that screech and flash only to eventually be ignored by the dirty faced kids. But still, some things are wounded when left alone for too long so they’re brought forward for laughs and hollers. Marched forward, one foot in front of the...
November 2008
1 post
October 2008
2 posts
Foundher.
tiny-poemadoes:
Father Wreckher Loom Spindle Cradle Dish It }}spoon{{ Grindher
Grid Here Black Silk Web Stars of Current Shock Thee Lines at Cross see: snowflakedlightning BLIZZARD OF THE
...
You Who's Lost.
em-:
I’m crying on the inside and it’s not for you. Its for her, the one whom just sacrificed her third child to ideals far beyond reach. The one whom starves until just beyond sanity, melting into the gingham at this lovely space we should be enjoying—but, instead, are borderline arguing as to whether Valium and espresso with a thirteenth cigarette and the first meal in days is the best option...
September 2008
13 posts
“The test of a first rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas...”
– The Crack-up
“I like too many things and get all confused and hung up running from one falling...”
– Jack Kerouac (via jessicap) (via thesaurus) (via mogadonia)
“& if you tell me yours, ill tell you mine. & we will clean the cobwebs...”
– missy higgins, dont ever. (via jaim)
bebelestrange:
“There are times, however, and this is one of them, when even being right feels wrong. What do you say, for instance, about a generation that has been taught that rain is poison and sex is death? If making love might be fatal and if a cool spring breeze on any summer afternoon can turn a crystal blue lake into a puddle of black poison right in front of your eyes, there is not much...