ARE YOU HAPPY. NO. OH NO.

ARE YOU HAPPY. NO. OH NO.

[wulfhalls]

I do know that for the sympathy of one living being, I would make peace with all. I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other.

[sharpteethd-deactivated20181130]

aesthetic  :  @wreighe !

[artemius]

sometimes it quiets down, but it never leaves

[booksqouted]

I desire the things that will destroy me in the end.

Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath (via booksqouted)

[mcavoyclub]

[baurion-deactivated20201017]

the weeknd, tears in the rain

[wreighe]

VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN AESTHETICS: (1/?) // it was the secrets of heaven & earth that i desired to learn ; & whether it was the outward substance of things or the inner spirit of nature & the mysterious soul of man that occupied me , still my inquiries were directed to the metaphysical , or in it highest sense , the physical secrets of the world. 

[wreighe]

                                            learn from me, if not by my precepts, at least by my example, how dangerous is the acquirement of knowledge, & how much happier that man is who believes his native town to be his world, than HE WHO ASPIRES to become greater than his nature will allow. ( mary shelley. ) // as reinterpreted by wes.

[blossomfully]

How dangerous,” he thought, “to finally have something worth losing.

Ten word story

(via blossomfully)

[nobucky-deactivated20150902]

[wnq-music]

I have a very childlike rage, and a very childlike loneliness.

Richey Edwards (via 019305 )

[neonnoise-blog]

Whence, I often asked myself, did the principle of life proceed?

( for @wreighe​.  art by Henrique de França )

[trollindel]

Anish Kapoor - San Gennaro 

2003

For more, follow: https://www.dylanwoodsart.tumblr.com

[wreighe]

admonitions to a special person - anne sexton. // VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN EDITS 1/?.

[violaceaes]

It’s you. – Kamishiro Rize

[ixaac]

[wreighe]

principia mathematica. i have become cruel in their captivity, taunting them with questions they have yet to answer, their silence a pervasive poison, turning on me like long thin knives. i find myself praying, hands clasped together, whispering fevered nonsensical things; mostly, for hope, an end to the fear. they do not listen, and when i look at them, they turn their giant heads, creaking like the end of a millennium. ( poem source. )