MOVED BLOGS.

𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙸𝙽 𝙲𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝙴𝚂 𝙻𝙾𝚂𝚃 𝚂𝙾𝚄𝙻𝚂.

[hghwys-archive]

this blog is now an archive; please follow joey @hghwys

[hghwys-archive]

this blog is now an archive; please follow joey @hghwys

[hghwys-archive]

this blog is now an archive; please follow joey @hghwys

[hghwys-archive]

this blog is now an archive; please follow joey @hghwys

[hghwys-archive]

the way that joey fuentes will just be sitting against the headboard of her rickety bed in some boarding house, clad in a white tee and jeans, slightly sw eaty, holding a lit cigarette in her hand like it's a joint, staring at the wall like she has receded into some faraway memory. and it's night, the moonlight falling on her just right.

[hghwys-archive]

as some of you might have already seen, someone very close to me was just called out for / admitted to some fucked up shit. i had no knowledge of the details of these events, and was in no way involved with them. however, i’ve ceased contact with the person called out for the time being so i can clear my head. i won’t be explaining beyond this point, but i felt the need to make this post because the person who has been called out has essentially been my best friend / right-hand woman for years, and i’m going through a lot of mixed emotions right now. my activity was shit before this went down but you can expect it to be even worse until i figure out where to go from here. 

thank you 💖

[hghwys-archive]

AT THE MOMENT, YOU WANT…?

TO BE SAFE.

no matter where you are, you can still feel the foundations of this building slowly crumbling apart. it’s unstable, you feel unsafe. it’d feel better if you were somewhere soft, somewhere closed off, and safe, but you’re stuck somewhere with falling debris, some sharp and small, some blunt and large. there’s gaps in places, and it feels like everything is looking in. you can’t stand to look out. you want to look away, for someone to help maybe, and take you away. or maybe, for something to go away, and for you to be able to go back to feeling secure. maybe you’ve never felt secure, and lately, it’s tiring. you want the house to fall apart faster, or stop entirely, so you can make it to safety. there’s a way to save yourself.

TAGGED BY: @wheelturns and @transforms  TAGGING: whoever wants to do it !

[hghwys-archive]

what form of gentle affection are you?

slow dancing in the kitchen.

feeling your loved one's form pressed against your own... the soft melody of a song that will always remind you of this moment... the tender forehead kisses... you are a hopeless romantic who yearns to meet that someone you will be able to spend the rest of your life with. you want a deep and settled love, something that makes you feel stable and comfortable. you want someone who will hold you at night, and kiss you every morning. you want someone who will always stand by you until the end. please try to remember that any failed romance was not a waste of time; it was an opportunity to grow and understand yourself. your perfect person will find you, and you are a complete person until then.

tagged by: nobody ! i stole this. tagging: whoever wants to do it.

[j-erseyboy]

Dennis Hopper in The Last Movie (1971)

[hghwys-archive]

wavebraek:

      “you know–”      mildred kicks the mosquito shutter open, toeing it while she negotiates her way onto the porch holding two beers a piece in each hand.     “– y’gotta start bein’ more careful.” 

top of the morning and joe is already in for a lecture. she exits her car and moseys up to the porch with an easy-going smile and inquisitively raised brow. nodding in mildred’s direction :

          ❛ oh, yeah ? what’d i do this time ? ❜ 

[hghwys-archive]

chelseahotels:

      “watch the jacket,” sacha snaps. the woman – who he embarrassingly mistakes for a man at first – had just been trying to stretch past him to get to the bar. it’s a crowded joint, and hardly no one sees their awkward encounter as sacha retracts from her. he has just bought this jacket, and doesn’t want to risk getting beer spilt on it. he looks her up and down, as if expecting a reassuring apology that’s never coming. puffing his shoulders, he tries again, “don’t you know manners?”

joe hardly notices her brush against the man’s body. after all, she has been squeezing past strangers all night. but there is no mistaking who his proceeding comments are directed at. 

her shoulders stiffen. she turns from the bar and back to the instigator, a dark look in her eyes. ❛ the night is young, friend, ❜ she replies, her tone too level for what comes next. joey reaches into her back pocket, draws cash from her wallet, and throws it at the man’s chest.

         ❛ why don’t you buy yourself a drink. settle down a little. ❜ 

( it was only one dollar. )

[palmburnt-a-blog]

TRUE DETECTIVE (SEASON ONE) STARTERS. send a sentence or send ✉ for a random starter. some trigger warnings apply. continued under the cut. change as needed.

kind of a strange guy, huh?

don’t be assholes. you want to hear this or not?

you know, i’ve seen all the different types.

we all fit a certain category.

i was just a regular-type dude with a big-ass dick.

a smart guy who’s steady is hard to find. 

i’d offer you a seat, but uh…

past a certain age, a man without a family can be a bad thing.

this is gonna happen again. or it’s happened before.

you get that from one of your books?

listen, this is a stupid time to mention this, but you got to come to dinner.

there’s nothing i can do about it. maybe not today. maybe not tomorrow. 

i’m gonna have a drink.

people out here, it’s like they don’t even know the outside world exists.

might as well be living on the fucking moon.

can i ask you something? you’re a christian, yeah?

i believe that people shouldn’t talk about this kind of shit at work.

look, i’d consider myself a realist, all right, but in philosophical terms, i’m what’s called a pessimist.

i’m bad at parties.

i think human consciousness is a tragic misstep in evolution.

huh. that sounds god-fucking-awful, ___.

i wouldn’t go around spouting that shit if i was you. 

people around here don’t think that way. i don’t think that way.

so what’s the point of getting out of bed in the morning?

i get a bad taste in my mouth out here.

i got an idea. let’s make the car a place of silent reflection from now on.

what should i bring for dinner?

when you’re at my house, i want you to chill the fuck out.

i’m not some kind of maniac, all right? i mean, for fuck’s sake.

fuck that prick.

we’ll lake two large long Island iced teas, please.

what kind of tits does she have?

you get pills pretty easy?

this place is like somebody’s memory of the town, and the memory’s fading.

stop saying shit like that. it’s unprofessional.

you get any sleep last night?

i don’t sleep. i just dream.

you believe in ghosts?

i’m gonna have to call a little timeout, make a beer run.

why is this so important to you all of a sudden?

she was high. fucked up.

what the hell? you can barely stand up.

i don’t drink ‘cause I’ve had trouble with it before.

have some more coffee and just try to make 10 minutes of conversation.

people change, relationships change.

i believe that shit leads to cancer.

then start asking the right fucking questions.

Keep reading

[hghwys-archive]

i just wanted to say while i may not be writing myself, i enjoy popping onto my dash anyway to read ur writing! the flow is as gorgeous as ever, miss marci !!

amy i love you !!! thank you for stopping by with this sweet message. i hope that you’ve been getting through this wild / hurtful period in the world alright. 

stay classy. 💖

[deforest]

Don’t he never sleep? THE NIGHT OF THE HUNTER (1955) dir. Charles Laughton

[hghwys-archive]

@jupiter3 / for mari.

joe is enjoying a cigarette break against the bar’s exterior when a young woman is kicked out with much fanfare. it’s impossible not to eavesdrop --- there is the usual insistence about the fake identification card being real, and a typical refusal to budge on the bouncer’s end --- so after the hullabaloo subsides, joe doesn’t feel too nosy for speaking out.           

          ❛ wouldn’t be too upset if i were you. this place lost its charm years ago. ❜ 

[hghwys-archive]

@chelseahotels        

          ❛ know somethin’, friday ? i’ve been doing an awful lot of thinking. ❜ 

as her slow and steady gait suggests. she keeps one hand tucked in the front pocket of her jeans. with the other , she tosses a green apple back and forth through the air. who can say where she got it at this hour of night, and in new york city, no less ? it simply completes her folksy look. ❛ your employee discount --- it apply to the fine friends who walk you home ? ❜ 

the next time the apple falls into joe’s palm, she takes a big bite. juice flies in all directions ; she shoots her companion a close-mouthed grin that betrays all the mischief in her mood.

[hghwys-archive]

@unhome

the small cafe hidden in the florida marsh has become a fine source of comfort for joe. each morning, she can count on the smells and tastes of her mother’s native country. the patrons rarely change either, and joe enjoys listening to the soft buzz of spanish conversation under the current of sizzling stovetops. she rarely socializes herself --- but that doesn’t bother her. 

today, an unfamiliar woman occupies the counter seat close to joe. manila folders litter the space next to her plate, and while joe tries her best to ignore their contents, a poorly timed glance reveals the grisly details to her. joey does a double-take to make sure she is seeing correctly. then she clears her throat, nodding to the photograph of a corpse sticking out of one of the folders. 

         ❛ you got something ... poking out, there. ❜