Jennifer Enns
'Begehbarer Farbraum', 2013.

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If you have to choose between me and someone else, pick them. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with someone who is going to question if they made the right choice.

—  (via hefuckin), (via transcripts)

(via followandreblog)


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Find someone who will tremble for your touch, someone whose fingers are a poem.

—  White Oleander (Janet Fitch)

(via wordsthat-speak)


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I hate the fact you always feel like you have to be going somewhere, like the end destination is to be finished, or to be happy. But the truth is a lot of us are completely lost, and we don’t know, and that is also a state of mind, to not know who you are and where you’re going.

—  Lykke Li | DIY Weekly (x)

(via whatevurs)



︻╦╤─ soft ghetto ─╤╦︻

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Art exists because life is not enough.

—  Ferreira Gullar (via commegetdesdick)

(via jewist)


Scratch Massive - Take me there ft. Jimmy Somerville 


Filed under:   scratch massive   disco   good music

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For women who are tied to the moon, love alone is not enough. We insist each day wrap it’s knuckles through our heart strings and pull. The lows. The joy. The poetry. We dance at the edge of a cliff, you have fallen off. So it goes. You will climb up again.

You rare girl, once again, you have a body that belongs to no lover, to no father, belongs to no one but you. Wear your sorrow like the lines on your palm. Like a shawl to keep you warm at night. Don’t mourn the love that is lost to you now. It is a book of poems whose meters worked their way into your pulse. Even if it has slipped from your hands, it will stay in your body.

You loved a man who treated you like absinthe, half poison and half god. He tried to sweeten you, to water you down. So you left. And now you have your heart all to yourself again. A heart like a stone cottage. Heart like a lover’s diary. Hope like an ocean.


Letter From Anais Nin to Clementine von Radics (After Marty McConnel)

Beautiful like Baudelaire’s Moon Benefits

(via dwam)

(via fleur-et-cie)


Sometimes I get so wrapped up in dramatics and my own thoughts that I forget that I am a person, like with a body. That I exist to other people, differently than I exist to myself.

# thoughts from the shower