the urgency of sound

Spoilers: Love fucks them apart.

Spoilers: Love fucks them apart.

Andrew Jackson Jihad

—Love Will Fuck Us Apart

theneedledrop:

i

give

it

to

you

raw

And then began The Needle Drop’s career as the internet’s busiest dropkicker.

"If you had a million years to do it in, you couldn’t rub out even half the ‘Fuck you’ signs in the world. It’s impossible.”

-The Catcher in the Rye

Anonymous asked: how do i ask out a girl?

theworldisa:

Leave them alone
- derrick

I knew the sun shone because my ignition key was reflected in the windshield.

—Lolita (1955)

Carissa's Wierd

—They'll Only Miss You When You Leave

Yr So Emo

You were too old wherever you were. Crestfallen and self-obsessed. We won’t be so strong for long. These crooked bones are tired.. but awake. In a sixteen-year-old’s heart there are poems, essays, and short stories. Fall fires carrying smoke through the pine trees and quiet brooks. Poplars drying up and changing shades. Always on the road, while our energy comes from driving along. Even through the dreariest seasons. Until it all shows in black and white. We’ll drop out and find it over again. It will never seem right. That’s the thing about ghosts? You can’t ever quite let them go.

"Alas! why does man boast of sensibilities superior to those apparent in the brute; it only renders them more necessary beings. If our impulses were confined to hunger, thirst, and desire, we might be nearly free; but now we are moved by every wind that blows, and a chance word or scene that that word may convey to us." -Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein

Group Hugs

A chasmclade in the side of a mountain where the sounds from our mouths do reverberate. Underneath the engine’s roar first loves bloom and wilt away.

The towns bellow.

All along the dirt paths we used to know a love so painless, motionless, and incomplete.

In this overgrown school above it all, we laugh and play and sing. On the fourth floor, the soft wind sets the room alive as it creaks beneath our scared feet. Can we sit out above the awning and let those little things swing? 

The lights from the town are a fire, and the church steps are dripping with the piss of listless solicitors. Morning will come, and we will go. In indifference Welch will rot or wilt away.

In the cloister where she left me

Dreaming of when

The world felt new

How I miss the face I wish I knew