[silverscents]

Martin Margiela, i-D April 1998

[sunsounds]

“I lie in the dark wondering if this quiet in me now is a beginning or an end.”

— Jack Gilbert, Waking At Night  (via weltenwellen)

[violentsensibility-deactivated2]

I do not feel in the same way as before. Yet I can’t say I am not feeling, or dead, or indifferent. It is myself I no longer feel.” — Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 3: 1939-1944

[lifeinpoetry]

“It’s true I made a feast of my own misery I invited everyone the whole gang / We ate only flowers it was my misery after all”

— Emily Skaja, from “[Remarkable the Litter of Birds],” Brute

[quotexcerpts]

“Perhaps, somewhere, someday, at a less miserable time, we may see each other again.”

— Vladimir Nabokov; Lolita

[minuty]

“You are a language I am no longer fluent in, but still remember how to read.”

— Ashe Vernon (via naturaekos)

[zvxlks]

[zvxlks]

[ncs51]

There is Nothing by David Shrigley

[thepersonalquotes]

[kxowledge]

Margaret Atwood, A Messenger

[mlmlmlmlmlmlmlmlmlml-deactivate]

[heartbreakclubs]

[soracities]

Novica Tadić, ‘About the Knife’, Dark Things: Poems (trans. Charles Simic)

[Text ID: “My blood wouldn’t let me rest.

Mercy walked away from me. Now, quickly, you do the same.”]

[softpyramid]

Gonzalo Reyes Rodriguez Untitled (Joy Division) 2014 50 x 40 inches, archival pigment print

[infpisme]

[killyohji]

Maison Martin Margiela FW98