The Flower of Evil.


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Searching among hollow bones and half-burnt candles. Living in a gloomy attic.
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"To keep from drowning"


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+ روزنامه


Репост из: Неизвестно
تو پیر بشی از همین قندعسلا میشی که صبح میرن کره بادوم زمینی و موز و یه پاکت سیگار میخرن میان


Репост из: ·Alaska, Alaska·
هرچی بزرگتر میشم، بیشتر می‌فهمم که چرا آدم‌های مسن بیرون می‌نشینن و دنیا و آدم‌ها رو نگاه می‌کنن و از این کار لذت می‌برن.






Репост из: Disappear.
“I do love you. I do think about you. I do spend some of my time wondering what you are up to. And of course I don’t feel like sharing you with others. I do get jealous! Of course I hate it when you tell me you love me the same amount you love others. It’s sometimes ridiculous that I want to hide away with you, go away with you. But I just do. And at this moment all I want you to know is that you have me. You really do. I just wish I had you the same amount back.” she said while caressing her hand.


-The Dreamers 2003


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:))))))


Репост из: Disappear.
She buys me stickers but forgets to hand them to me. It took ages for her to give me the annotated book she had made for me. She forgets to send me my “one song a day”s. She thinks she is not worthy of anything and in her opinion I must have disappeared a long time ago from her life. Despite all these, there had been times when all I wanted was to pack my stuff and move to Italy for heaven’s sake with her. Wanted to hide away among book shelves in a strange library downtown and have wine with her afterwards. Wanted to make homemade cookies for her and hand her a glass of warm water and honey when she gets these stupid stomachaches. Wanted to run away with her.




Diary note:
–July 20th; 5:13
Silence, peace and the great gig in the sky.


How much of the world must we pass through to arrive at ourselves?
–Natalie Wee,



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