index selfshotsmy photographynon-sensebody in motion ask archive theme
  The Dream-machine
Self expression. Chaos and beauty. Art. Consciousness. Existence. A devoted surrealist and full time psychonaut.
”The difficulties (which other people surely find incredible) I have in speaking to people arise from the fact that my thinking, or rather the content of my consciousness, is entirely nebulous, that I remain undisturbed by this, so far as it concerns only myself, and am even occasionally self-satisfied; yet conversation with people demands pointedness, solidity, and sustained coherence, qualities not to be found in me. No one will want to lie in clouds of mist with me, and even if someone did, I couldn’t expel the mist from my head; when two people come together it dissolves of itself and is nothing.”
- Franz Kafka
”I can’t think of anything but nights with you. I want them warm and silvery.”
- Zelda Fitzgerald, “Letter to F. Scott Fitzgerald”, May 1919

It hurts not to see you standing there

(Source: a-femmefatalist)


I have such a soft spot for tumblr.

Maybe because I only have a few followers on here? Quality, not quantity.


”We passionately long that there may be another life in which we shall be similar to what we are here below. But we do not pause to reflect that, even without waiting for that other life, in this life, after a few years we are unfaithful to what we have been, to what we wished to remain immortally.”
- Marcel Proust


deckled edges

”One has only to read, to look, to listen, to remember.”
- A Room of One’s Own by Virginia Woolf

(Source: treesofreverie)

”And there are times, when I talk about something, when I might sound ridiculous to you.
But you should know that it’s exactly then, exactly at that moment when you think I begin to sound ridiculous, when I really start saying something that means a lot to me.”
- Leonora Carrington

Paseo de la Reforma
Lola Sade (2014)

(Source: a-femmefatalist)

”I stand in the dark light in the dark street
and look up at my window, I was born there.
The lights are on; other people are moving about.
I am with raincoat; cigarette in mouth,
hat over eye, hand on gate.
I cross the street and enter the building.
The garbage cans haven’t stopped smelling.
I walk up the first flight; Dirty Ears
aims a knife at me…
I pump him full of lost watches.”
- Gregory Corso, “Birthplace Revisited” from Gasoline


Man Ray and Marcel Duchamp 

”O human race, born to fly upward, wherefore at a little wind dost thou so fall?”
- Dante Alighieri
do you have a job? or have you ever worked?

No, stranger.


walls of succulents