You, Kick, please, its time to kick out
punch your cardboard ‘til it folds
then drown it, in lifestuff
enough to dissolve it
then walk by
Let it Go.
don’t thrash
just surface, break air
that bite is real contact
a slap, but its seasoned with sun
Breathe, please, its time to breathe in
I think music irons your nerves; smooths them into a presentable state, takes out the kinks…even when it almost burns its frickin wonderful
Some direction would be nice occasionally.
As much as I love getting lost.
ahhhh <3
Phillipe Petit walked the space between towers of the World Trade Centre. He tightrope walked and he danced with his life on a wire in the sky. In 1974 he did what no-one had ever done and I wish to all hell that I could live like those as free as he.
Photoshoot: Nicole Bianca, aspiring actress/singer/writer/dancer
Photography by Nic Hirst
May 2012
2 characters: 1950s marilyn monroe-esque
and modern angsty-ish
and just normal :P
Photoshoot: Nicole Bianca, aspiring actress/singer/writer/dancer
Photography by Nic Hirst
May 2012
2 characters: 1950s marilyn monroe-esque
and modern angsty-ish
and just normal :P
2Photoshoot: Nicole Bianca, aspiring actress/singer/writer/dancer
May 2012
2 characters: 1950s marilyn monroe-esque
and modern angsty-ish
and just normal :P
Vera Pavlova, from “If There Is Something to Desire” (via proustitute)
Falling in love in a coffee shop, Landon Pigg
In a sense writers are the ultimate voyeurs. Everything is…catalogued, you know…someone takes drugs, burns out, burns…we write about it. Someone loves, we record it. Someone dies. Everyone else has this g-force pressing them on indefinitely and we, we’re just still, caught in a moment of catching moments. Everyone acts on their passion and we distill their lives until the shit’s evaporated and you’re left with meaning, silvery on the tongue with piercing aftertaste…the fine things, yes? But you see, no-one nurses champagne at a bar, no-one comes to ambrosia for comfort. No-one’s warmed by threads of diamond dust. They want beer and vodka to keep them warm, chunky wool to insulate their heart. So I dont know, maybe its better to live fast, skate in a cycle of speed, movement, and chuck drinks run run slam fall cry rise slam fall live fast, you know? Maybe its better…
