Babas After Hours
I want all my secrets back by six word story (via adieufranz)

(Source: velvet-plats, via moon-drunk)


#167 Pierrot Le Fou (1965) by Jean-Luc Godard
He is not a constellation.
You should not wish to be the cigarette touching his lips.
He will not appear through the fog and heal your wounds.
Only you can do that.
So get out of bed and put on some lipstick.
Stop falling at his feet.
Save yourself. by Emery Allen (via rabbitinthemoon)
ikebana-albums:

Amanda in suede shoes
For each person there is a sentence—a series of words—which has the power to destroy them. by Philip K. Dick (via larmoyante)
retropopcult:

Andy Warhol gathering supplies (“props”) for his art
You have so many layers, that you can peel away a few, and everyone’s so shocked or impressed that you’re baring your soul, while to you it’s nothing, because you know you’ve twenty more layers to go. by Craig Thompson, Carnet de Voyage   (via klonazepam)

(Source: larmoyante, via moon-drunk)

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