my prof is so obsessed with religion it’s not even funny. the fuck man
fook it failin this shit whatever
Love for Mathieu will no longer suffice. Not even love or passion—the making of love— can shield him from his introspective thoughts. No woman can make him forget himself, his existence. The freshness has jaded. But is that true with everything? His mistress once did keep him from himself and drag him out of his mind. But then comes the day that they become one. She grows all too familiar till the idea of her is his too. And now she is not escape, she is a part of his mind’s prison. So it then seems that any escape can only be a temporary one. For it needn’t take long for the grains of existence to eat at the picture of something new. And we are stuck in ourselves once again.
(Source: lesosenverrre)
Arpad Szenes e Vieira da Silva, atelier Boulevard Saint-Jacques, Paris, c. 1938.
(Source: sketchofthepast, via elusivo-blog)
(Source: heksenfluit, via pnguye)
(Source: voguelovesme, via viteal-deactivated20130403)
I’m dating a determinist with a beard
how cool is that?!
Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec -A Montrouge - Rosa La Rouge, 1886-87, Oil on canvas
(Source: artpedia, via lustforthemoonlight)
I’m so in love with this. it’s like a photograph of her soul.
(Source: disimba, via alien-rain)