My Favorite Eye Color Is Your Eye Color And My Favorite Height Is Your Height And My Favorite Weight

Come back. Even as a shadow, even as a dream.

Euripides, Herakles  (via alunaes)

Retrograde motion of Mars in the night sky of the Earth.

You told me once that love is a gentle thing, but when I say love I always mean violence. I mean my mouth as a slaughterhouse, something you need but could never truly look at. Me kissing you full on your split lip. Love is lemonade made with the rinds and no honey. A child that wants but never speaks. Love is I’ve never known how to touch without hurting. Love is my mother with her sewing needles, teaching me how to bleed.

LOVE AS RADIO SILENCE // h.y.k (inspired by Darshana Suresh’s An Exploration of the Unknown)

I clawed my way into the light but the light is just as scary. I’d rather quit. I’d rather be sad. It’s too much work.

Richard Siken, from “Self-Portrait Against Red Wallpaper,” War of the Foxes (via joolabee)

i actually 

do not support nice sketchbooks 

I think they take too much time and effort and pull out the perfectionism and insecurity in every artist and you would improve much faster sketching through a big stack of copy paper on a clipboard

and yet…