白日

[thanatomania]

[wedarkacademia]

𝐈 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐚 𝐅𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥, 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐲 𝐄𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐃𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,

And Mourners to and fro

Kept treading - treading - till it seemed

That Sense was breaking through -

And when they all were seated,

A Service, like a Drum -

Kept beating - beating - till I thought

My mind was going numb -

And then I heard them lift a Box

And creak across my Soul

With those same Boots of Lead, again,

Then Space - began to toll,

As all the Heavens were a Bell,

And Being, but an Ear,

And I, and Silence, some strange Race,

Wrecked, solitary, here -

And then a Plank in Reason, broke,

And I dropped down, and down -

And hit a World, at every plunge,

And Finished knowing - then -

[cowboyangell]

[eleanorhamor]

[not-your-babyyy-deactivated2023]

Paul Mescal photographed by Fionn o’ Shea

[psychooodkiller]

Lola Rennt (1998)

[eliminated]

[recaption]

[lauramakabresku]

[reporanka]

“The Anatomy of Melancholy” by Laura Makabresku, self-portrait, 2020

[bienenkiste]

“Ringers”. Photographed by Greta Ilieva for Office Magazine F/W 2016

[klassizismus]

A Painter’s Studio (detail). By Michiel Sweerts, 1646

[klassizismus]

The Misses Plowden (details). By William Beechey, 1819

[understands]

[le-immorte]

“My heart, a dauntless whisper of ghostlike apparitions, a megrim, a cry.”

— Channing M (via de-morte)

[negativeonetoten]

“A few years back, when we hit the top of our, uh, smuggling game, she just appeared. And we figure, someday, she’ll just disappear.”

[hapless-hollow]

“you might as well cling to death, the same way you cling to love. in the end, they shall both kill you.”

— Helaena C Moon @ http://hapless-hollow.tumblr.com/

[le-immorte]

“I was dancing with her memories … I was dancing in a burning room, I was dancing around her ghosts… Until she pulled me into her, as I slowly became ashes in her pyre.”

— Channing M (via de-morte)