r.i.p. quirk

my bloody valentine - ”new you”

swarm, by nick flynn

When you see us swarm––rustle of

wingbeat, collapsed air––your mind
tries to make us one, a common

intelligence, a single spirit un-
tethered. You imagine us merely
searching out the next

vessel, anything

that could contain us, as if the hive
were just another jar. You try

to hold the ending, this
unspooling, make it either

zero or many, lack

or flurry. I was born,
you begin, & already each word
makes you smaller. Look at this field––

Cosmos. Lungwort. Utter each
& break

into a thousand versions of yourself.

You can’t tell your stories fast enough.
The answer is not one, but also

not two. 


francesca woodman
untitled, stanwood, washington, 1979

francesca woodman

untitled, stanwood, washington, 1979

kittydothedishes:

❤ a little uh appetizer for my new EP - D.A.I.S.Y. rage ❤

❤❤ COMING.THIS.MONTH ❤❤

❤ video directed/produced by STEAMCLAM ❤
❤❤ with special thxx 2 HOT SUGAR ❤❤
❤ we outchea in this w.the sparkliest video of all time bitch match me ❤

☁ daisyrage.com ☁

dream garage?

nosaj thing - “eclipse/blue”

(can’t stop watching this & thinking about drawing shapes across the sky at night)

28. AN EMPTY PLACE NEAR HERE

"He had a white mustache, or maybe it was gray"… "I was thinking about my situation, I was alone again and I was trying to understand why" … "There’s a skinny man over by the body now, taking pictures" … "I know there’s an empty place near here, but I don’t know where" …


- Antwerp by Roberto Bolaño
jay mcinerney, from “20 excellent photos of famous authors partying” on flavorwire

jay mcinerney, from “20 excellent photos of famous authors partying” on flavorwire

 
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