I Was an Eagle, Laura Marling.
Vincent van Gogh - Starry Night over the Rhone (1888)
LORDE | Glory and Gore
"Secretly you love this do you even wanna go free?"
Let me in the ring, I’ll show you what that big word means
Witches Going to Their Sabbath (1878), by Luis Ricardo Falero.
Galliano’s salute to René Gruau, made for Dior
so if you haven’t sat down in a while and watched a little mix video or if youve never seen one before or even if you just stopped watching one just stop what ur doin and watch this because!!!! i just got the breath knocked out of me with how much i love them??? this has an acoustic of how ya doin, an acapella of dna, and an acoustic wings and theyre all just!! amazing. they so clearly LOVE what theyre doing, they love learning new arrangements, you can tell by the way they sing. you can hear every single individual pieces of the harmonies (pay attention to leigh-anne at the HYD breakdown, she does all of these little breathy things and you can hardly notice but they add so much to it fuck), and LOOK AT THE WAY THEY LOOK AT EACH OTHER WHILE THEYRE SINGING they love each other so muCH and theyre so proud of each other and!!!!! i am a mess i need a cuddle and for little mix to take over the world, not necessarily in that order okay bye
Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.
- sylvia plath, lady lazarus.
"She wants to be flowers," said Huw, “but you make her owls. Why do we destroy ourselves?"
Jesus, more hobbledehoys!
You can’t leave me alone with them, they’re all over the place like a nest of pigs!
Why can’t they all just go away?!
Somewhere I read
that when they finally staggered off the mountain
into some strange town, past drunk,
hoarse, half naked, blear-eyed,
blood dried under broken nails
and across young thighs,
but still jeering and joking, still trying
to dance, lurching and yelling, but falling
dead asleep by the market stalls,
sprawled helpless, flat out, then
would come and stand nightlong in the agora
as ewes and cows in the night fields,
guarding, watching them
as their mothers
watched over them.
And no man
that fierce decorum.