human. artist. science, culture, facts.
fantasy. adventures. daydreaming.
punk. weird. lone wolf syndrome.
a fuck up who fucks up.
Always trying to be a better version of myself.
Porn is one of the biggest and most harmful industries in the world, closely affiliated with human trafficking and drugs and alcohol abuse, causing rape between children, violence, beastiality and pedophilism and its fetishizing race, underage girls, trans people and lesbianism. Thought you should know.
i wrote you a letter / asked your best friend to send it / but took to the sea before you could have read it / retreated to snowcapped waters of the unknown / extracted my heart while it was still beating / but glowing and red / and i swear that sweat would envelop your arms if you broke down and held it / i swear i’m a good man / so why don’t you love me back? / instead of twisting up words you just sat there in silence / in wind burnt homes sighing rays from a sunset / and all i could hear was the sound of the wasp nest / my head made a home for the hum of the insects / but my hands shake and shudder at the mention / of half hearted reasons why we’ll only be friends / i swear i’m a good man / so why don’t you love me back?
"Have you ever got the feeling that there’s no time left? Or maybe that it’s running out faster than you think, faster than you could possibly imagine? Do you ever get to feeling like that when you’re lying in your lover’s arms talking a bunch of shit that seems to make sense at the time but not really because you know that tomorrow you’re not going to feel that way? And you know it all the while and still you go along with it for some reason and you don’t know what that reason is but you never stop to question it because you’re too wrapped up in some shit that’s making you blind?
Do you ever get to feeling like that when someone is stringing you along to your death by wasting your time with bullshit and lies that feel good? Do you ever get that feeling? Do you? Ever at all? Do you think that you’ll be here forever? Do you ever think that wasting time is losing time? Do you ever think that losing time is gaining on your death? Not death that doesn’t touch you, like in a movie or in a magazine or some fucking cause that you give your filthy money to, but your death. The real death, the one that takes your life. Do you ever feel like there’s no air to breathe? Like things are getting tight and heavy in your chest? Do you ever get that feeling in your guts like it’s going to be over sooner than later and sooner as every hour passes, as every minute, as every second goes by? Do you ever feel like the air is being sucked out of you? Do you ever feeling like running until you bust into flames and explode?
I’ve got a stopwatch strapped to my brain. Got a death-trip man screaming in my ear. I got a part animal part machine vision digging its spurs into my side screaming, “Faster, you idiot, the sun is coming up!”“
- Henry Rollins, “Art To Choke Hearts”
Malcolm X | The Autobiography of Malcolm X (1964)
This just in: SPF 100 sounds great but when you’re as pale as me, it’s just not enough. Beach blogging from under an umbrella 2k14.
Henry Rollins, The Portable Henry Rollins (via sydneyrae)
That’s A Cake // Sprayard
And sometimes I fucking hate myself and I want to get out of this town and find brand new people and brand new reasons to fucking hate myself