Q

Anonymous asked:

Imy daddy <3

A

I don’t know what this means. 

Shia LaBeouf by Craig McDean for Interview Magazine

The fuck?

(via l0ndono)

“And the more keenly I examined my face— those unblinking eyes, that sheen of tiny hairs along the jaw, that shade along the nose— and the more insistently I told myself “This is I, this is so-and-so,” the less clear it became why this should be “I,” the harder I found it to make the face in the mirror merge with that “I” whose identity I failed I grasp.”
— Vladimir Nabokov - Terror (via eruptingtongues)

I’ve fallen in love six times since 11:30.

I wanna do something with my life, like watch more movies.

(via cinematographic)

Sunset (from A Single Man)
by Abel Korzeniowski

Robbed.

Q

Anonymous asked:

how's life?

A

You must be new.

thisisjustgreat:

If you’re happy and you know it, how?

“You are in bed together, you two Readers. So the moment has come to address you in the second person plural, a very serious operation, because it is tantamount to considering the two of you a single subject. I’m speaking to you two, a fairly unrecognizable tangle under the rumpled sheet. Maybe afterward you will go your separate ways and the story will again have to shift gears painfully, to alternate between the feminine tu and the masculine; but now, since your bodies are trying to find, skin to skin, the adhesion most generous in sensations, to transmit and receive vibrations and waves, to compenetrate the fullnesses and the voids, since in mental activity you have also agreed on the maximum agreement, you can be addressed with an articulated speech that includes you both, in a sole, two-headed person. First of all the field of action, or of existence, must be established for this double entity you form. Where is the reciprocal identification leading? What is the central theme that recurs in your variations and modulations? A tension concentrated on not losing anything of its own potential, on prolonging a state of reactivity, on exploiting the accumulation of the other’s desire in order to multiply one’s own charge? Or is it the most submissive abandonment, the exploration of the immensity of strokable and reciprocally stroking spaces, the dissolving of one’s being in a lake whose surface is infinitely tactile? In both situations you certainly do not exist except in relation to each other, but, to make those situations possible, your respective egos have not so much to erase themselves as to occupy, without reserve, all the void of the mental space, invest in itself at the maximum interest or spend itself to the last penny. In short, what you are doing is very beautiful but grammatically it doesn’t change a thing. At the moment when you most appear to be a united voi, a second person plural, you are two tu's, more separate and circumscribed than before.

(This is already true now, when you are still occupied, each with the other’s presence, in an exclusive fashion. Imagine how it will be in a little while, when ghosts that do not meet will frequent your minds, accompanying the encounters of your bodies tested by habit.)”
If on a winter’s night a traveler by Italo Calvino
“I don’t have it in me to write music about an emotion I don’t innately have.”
— Nico Muhly, speaking to Rebecca Mead in 2008.. (via newyorker)

(via newyorker)