(Source: starvationplantation)
(via photodonuts)
Dear Mental Illness: Dear Depression
Hey, its great that you have been able to give me this creative gift to write dark art (music and poetry). It’s also cool that you have given me a kind of cool dark humor and dark sense of style. But you know what’s not cool?This whole make me hate myself, constant thoughts of how I can kill…
(Source: thepaintrain)
POP F/W 11.12
(Source: twilmet123, via firewhiskeygrace-deactivated201)
To what purpose, April, do you return again?
Beauty is not enough.
You can no longer quiet me with the redness
Of little leaves opening stickily.
I know what I know.
The sun is hot on my neck as I observe
The spikes of the crocus.
The smell of the earth is good.
It is apparent that there is no death.
But what does that signify?
Not only under ground are the brains of men
Eaten by maggots,
Life in itself
Is nothing,
An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs.
It is not enough that yearly, down this hill,
April
Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.
—Edna St. Vincent Millay, “Spring” (via invisiblestories)
(Source: aubade, via invisiblestories)
The only reason we don’t open our hearts and minds to other people is that they trigger confusion in us that we don’t feel brave enough or sane enough to deal with. To the degree that we look clearly and compassionately at ourselves, we feel confident and fearless about looking into someone else’s eyes.
Sometimes you hit a point where you either change or self destruct.
—Sam Stevens
(Source: quote-book, via firewhiskeygrace-deactivated201)
