Photoset

brookelabrie:

me shooting floofie & romahni (offstage) in Portland

photos by themorty

(via pussylesqueer)

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(Source: 27482)

Video

jykinturah:

kimpossibooty:

professoroakofficial:

isaacjamess:

One of the best out takes from any television show, ever. 

HE FUCKING STRAIGHT-FACED THAT

This man is a guardian of the galaxy

you can just see the split second where everyone is processing what he said

(Source: prekrasnoe-mngnovenie, via uneautredimension)

Text

There is love in this house
and how we built our lives here
the roads traveled home
the blinds cutting sun into blades
the warmth and light
or old November’s bite shooting under
our front door
The mornings do not pass
with wonder or honesty as they did
The approach to slumber and rise from beds
is swollen with the past
These walls have been my home
I will hold to them
rending trenches in the drywall
pulling myself out

The garden around the side of the house is beginning to wilt
Timely

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Audio

Into it. Over it. - Discretion & Depressing People
(Proper, 2011)

You would write it
Then rewrite it
Then erase it

But I heard you had something to say to me
A stronger spine is all you need
So pick up the guts from on the floor
Experienced advice to help you with the choice of words so poor

Well I call it retaliation by definition
You should’ve known by now
What this resentments all about
I’ve posted every kind of clue around this town
And everyone seems to see them but you

So you erased it
(But here I am)
Still front and center
(My cunning plan)
To see you never put your foot inside your mouth ever again

Well I call it retaliation at my discretion
You should’ve known by now
We deserve to see you be cast out
I’ve posted every kind of clue around this town
And everyone seems to hear them but you

Your lack of confidence is not a right to verbally abuse
I should’ve said this to your face
But what’s the use?
It’s the awful ones like you that keep the better people sane
So we could all be better off if you’re the same

So I call it realization at my discretion
You should’ve known by now
What this resentments all about
I’ve posted every kind of clue around this town
And everyone understands it but you

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267198:

This is many years old, but yes. Once upon a time I thought about being a photographer.

267198:

This is many years old, but yes. Once upon a time I thought about being a photographer.

(via unskilledartist)

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Text

passing mornings, up
with dawn. household in slumber,
rise with dusk’s approach

Photoset

alexropefun:

Sorry for the messy rope work. (Last session in my ex Berliner flat)

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"It’s in an artery, Chulseung…”

"It’s in an artery, Chulseung…”

(Source: neatmanageablepiles)

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(Source: crazyaboutfilm)

Audio

Sure, I know that you are tired of hearing about it
But most repeat the same theme over and over again,
It’s as if they were trying to refine what seems so strange
And off and important to them.

It’s done by everybody
Because each must work out what is before them over and over again
Because that is their personal tiny miracle.
Like now as like before
And before I have been listening to symphony after symphony from this radio
It makes me realize that certain people now long dead
Were able to transgress graveyards and traps and cages and bones and limbs
In tiny rented rooms I was struck by miracles

The flesh covers the bone and they put a mind in there
And sometimes a soul and the women break vases against the walls
And the men they drink too much
And nobody ever finds the one
But keep looking crawling in and out of beds.
Flesh covers the bone and the flesh searches for more than flesh.

There is a loneliness in this world 
So great that you can see it in the slow movement of the hands of a clock
People so tired, mutilated, either by love or no love.
People just are not good to each other.
We are afraid.
Our educational system tells us that we can all be big winners
But it hasn’t told us about the gutters or the suicides.
Or the terror of one person aching in one place
Alone, untouched, and unspoken to.

People are not good to each other.
People are not good to each other.
I suppose they never will be.
I don’t ask them to be.
But sometimes I think about it.
There must be a way.
Surely, there must be a way

There’s no chance at all:
We are all trapped by fate.
Nobody ever finds the one.
Nobody ever finds the one.

There’s no chance at all:
We are all trapped by fate.
Who put this brain inside of me?
It says that there’s a chance.
It’s kept the rope from my throat
Maybe it will loosen yours.

The city dumps fill.
The junkyards fill.
The graveyards fill.

Nothing else fills. 
Nothing else fills.
Nothing else fills.

Photoset

(Source: foxymay, via adversvry)

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(Source: 27482)