vexed ideations

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"I was sentimental about many things: a woman’s shoes under the bed; one hairpin left behind on the dresser; the way they said, “I’m going to pee…”; hair ribbons; walking down the boulevard with them at 1:30 in the afternoon, just two people walking together; the long nights of drinking and smoking, talking; the arguments; thinking of suicide; eating together and feeling good; the jokes, the laughter out of nowhere; feeling miracles in the air; being in a parked car together; comparing past loves at 3AM; being told you snore, hearing her snore, mothers, daughters, sons, cats, dogs, sometimes death and sometimes divorce, but always carrying on and seeing it through; reading a newspaper alone in a sandwich joint and feeling nausea because she’s now married to a dentist with an IQ of 95; racetracks, parks, park picnics; even jails, her dull friends, your dull friends, your drinking, her dancing, your flirting, her flirting; her pills, your fucking on the side, and her doing the same, sleeping together…"

- Charles Bukowski, Women (via theeanthonyyeung)

outkast - ms. jackson

(Source: frankoceanfanclub, via zoop3r)

I want this so bad, more than anything I’ve ever tried for. Please, please, let me get what I want.

"I have a hole in my chest through which everything flows into me and is sucked out of me."

- Franz Kafka, from Diaries (via pukin)

(Source: violentwavesofemotion, via thejezebelly)

(Source: spnfans, via harukakitten)

(Source: la-fugitiva-sensacion, via veroniconda)

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