ghost world

bria. made of outer space.

[transistoradio]

Barbara Kruger, “Are We Having Fun Yet?” (1987).

[kushblazer666]

[sapphling]

god these violent delights are fucking AWESOME lol. having a great time. btw does anybody know what we're doing after this

[elvis-shrimpley]

Woah mama I'm a shrimp

[aflo]

I truly believe we don't have much time left

[macabrevampire]

t-shirt that reads "i'd rather be getting psychosexually tormented right now"

[interested-individual]

[charish-cherish]

[houndmother]

i’m burning the candle at ends you’ve never heard of

[houndmother]

exactly

[i-am-a-fish]

im anxious. i should be at the club

[i-am-a-fish]

loud as fuck in here what was I thinking

[anarch0possum]

if i had a time machine, first thing id do is obviously kill hitler. even if germanys fascism was caused by complex socioeconomic factors itd still be worth doing for the bit. then id go even further back to the early 20th century and become one of those old timey bank robbers, when they had names like 'pretty boy floyd' and 'baby face nelson' and id make sure people knew me as 'sweet baby ray' just to see how it fucks with barbeque sauce history

[toddsolondz]

me: oh man the weather is so nice lately

that one friend who was beat to death and came back wrong: do you guys remember when i got beat to death and then they brought me back wrong

me: yeah dude

that one friend who was beat to death and came back wrong: and no one avenged me

me: yeah we remember

[roseforviolet]

[mad-hare]

Fun fact: for some reason men that compare themselves to golden retrievers on hinge do NOT like being told “bark for me dog”

[mad-hare]

They don’t like this

[speakthewordonly]

in a kill it with your sword kill it with your sword amen mood today

[autumntoken]

The New Yorker Autumn Covers 🍂🍁

[bluecheer]

vintage go to hell cigarettes, “the cigarette with a message for smoking critics” from 1987. pics from lori barbero

[merulae]

“The French called this time of day ‘l’heure bleue.’ To the English it was ‘the gloaming.’ The very word ‘gloaming’ reverberates, echoes—the gloaming, the glimmer, the glitter, the glisten, the glamour—carrying in its consonants the images of houses shuttering, gardens darkening, grass-lined rivers slipping through the shadows. During the blue nights you think the end of day will never come. As the blue nights draw to a close (and they will, and they do) you experience an actual chill, at the moment you first notice: the blue light is going, the days are already shortening, the summer is gone.”

— Joan Didion, Blue Nights