(via thetravelings)
4417your soul is able, death is all you craddle
open up your eyelids & let your demons run
BRMC- beat the devil’s tattoo
The only people for me are the mad ones. The ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time. The ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.
Jack Kerouac, On the Road. (via ruineshumaines)
(via ruineshumaines)
(Source: gwarf.deviantart.com, via ruineshumaines)
(Source: gwarf.deviantart.com, via ruineshumaines)
Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won’t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could.
Louise Erdrich, The Painted Drum.
(Source: ruineshumaines, via ruineshumaines)
(Source: whereisthecoool, via wardrobefilledwith-shoes)
(Source: ziggyminx, via lifeisprettysweet)
love this outfit.
