(Source: sovereign-misinterpreter, via sun-smitten)
isn’t always magic.
Sometimes it’s just melting.
Where it’s black and blue.
Where it hurts the most. — Andrea Gibson - Maybe I Need You (via thelip0finsanity)
WOOL, an old poem when I was 21. I’d been talking to a publisher in Iowa that was interested in releasing a book of poems. I never did that.
(Source: ilikesilverliningsplaybook, via lunsfuhd)
But I don’t want comfort. I want poetry. I want danger. I want freedom. I want goodness. I want sin. — Aldous Huxley (1894–1963), from Brave New World (via flommus)
I am interested in language because it wounds or seduces me. — Roland Barthes, The Pleasure of the Text (1973)
(Source: larmoyante, via woodensoulrot)