Paradoxical Imaginings

February 2012

sometimes I can feel the texture of a certain colour rubbing against my skin...

sed-infinitum:

…and sometimes I can taste the flavor of what a song sounds like, rolling across my tongue like velvet or sandpaper or a flower petal. I think it’s a wonderful thing to experience something with more than just one sense, such as sight or hearing. Break out of the box a little, ya know?

…But that’s usually when my friends usually tell me to get off of the drugs. Ah well.

Don’t mind me. Just reminding myself that I’ve always been this weird. 

Jan 31, 20125 notes

"how strange it is to be anything at all"

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Jan 31, 20120 notes

#this was probably triggered by too little real food and too much dr who #kdsj;asdlfkjh #pretty sure i'm a whole lot weirder than most of you think I am #reasons why some people think I'm a druggie

Jan 31, 20121 note

mesotheliomata:

i don’t even want to fuck. i just wanna touch someone else’s skin, lose myself somewhere between their breathing and the feel of bone and muscle beneath my palms.

Jan 31, 20125 notes

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January 2012

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#i am upset #even dr who can't sooth me #even the thought of the antichrist shaving his legs to be betty page is helping and I mean c'mon that's classic funny shit right thur #self

Jan 31, 20122 notes

#i have yer n00ds #self #numnumnum

Jan 31, 201229 notes

#dancer #abs #thin #skinny #Thinspo #black and white

Jan 31, 201217 notes

#conceptual #photography #art #monochrome #black and white #trees #bokeh #double exposure

Jan 31, 201259 notes

#body paint #paint #art #artwork #photography #modeling #fabric #silk

Jan 31, 201215 notes

#abstract #art #blue #black #beige

Jan 31, 2012803 notes

“Do not feel lonely, the entire universe is inside you.” —Rumi (via vashti)

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Play

Jan 31, 201282,871 notes

“There is never a sudden revelation, a complete and tidy explanation for why it happened, or why it ends, or why or who you are. You want one and I want one, but there isn’t one. It comes in bits and pieces, and you stitch them together wherever they fit, and when you are done you hold yourself up, and still there are holes and you are a rag doll, invented, imperfect. And yet you are all that you have, so you must be enough. There is no other way.” —Marya Hornbacher (via watercolourstorm)

Jan 31, 20122 notes

“Something’s gotta give,
it may as well be our fingers.
Touch me, ‘til my ribs become piano keys,
‘til there is sheet music scrolled across the inside of my lungs
cause i”m breaking old patterns.” —Andrea Gibson (via loveyourchaos)

Jan 31, 20121,641 notes