wearedown: “don’t undress my love you might find a mannequin: don’t undress the mannequin you might find my love. she’s long ago forgotten me. she’s trying on a new hat and looks more the coquette than ever. she is a child and a mannequin and death. I can’t hate that. she didn’t do anything unusual. I only wanted her to.” — Charles BUKOWSKI - Trapped
Last night I spent $5 on a pack of cigarettes I’m not actually going to smoke, bought at a gas station on my way back from a festival where I was the only one not high/drunk off my ass, only to write quotes from Faust and Bukowski in permanent marker on them. And now I’m burning incense to get the smell of tobacco out of my room. … People ask me why I do the things I do. ...
I get so, so, so fucking sick of it. It makes me want to vomit. The men old enough to be my father with grease-stained shirts staring at me before walking up to try and flirt. The stranger I pass on the sidewalk, and when I attempt the awkward “hello” smile, not even noticing because he’s wordlessly staring at my (not very impressive) chest. The oh-so-smooth-and-subtle!! graze...
That awkward moment where you can’t quite recall whether you exist or not, so you start dancing through parking lots chasing imaginary butterflies while avoiding the broken glass beer bottles and laughing at the idea of insanity. Then somehow you’re back at the party again, no longer dancing, just watching some stranger of a wrinkled body sip champagne. And suddenly instead of...
Describe yourself naked in five words.
avoiceasbigasthesea: themalfoycharm: feltgasm: Tom Felton: Not very impressive to look at. Although that’s six. Well this must be the biggest lie of the century. WHAT A LIAR.. Tom Felton I love you but SHUT UP.