i. ii. iii. iv. v.
My name is Sufia and i dont know what to say
:)

 —  forth

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A swimming pool in the shape of a cat at the Fontainebleau Hotel, Miami, c. 1955. Photographed by Slim Aarons 

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Yves Saint Laurent Haute Couture Spring 1999

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cockchomp:

not killing myself is a personal achievement but you cant really brag about that at dinner parties

(via alteringminds)

9 . 2

http://ruby-doom.tumblr.com/post/76316844909/someone-once-asked-me-tell-me-all-the-things

ruby-doom:

Someone once asked me, ‘tell me all the things that no one knows about you’. I sat there, holding a cigarette between two aching fingers, my lungs full to bursting with the taste he left in my mouth when he handed me the first one three years ago. I sped through the inventory of my memory for the…

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He’s so damned nice and he’s so awful. He’s my sort of thing.

—  Ernest Hemingway, from The Sun Also Rises  (via jamstains)

(via halfstoned)

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What do I bring him? Lips that have lost the note of joy, eyes that are blinded by tears, chill hands and icy heart. I bring him nothing.

—  Oscar Wilde, Lady Windermere’s Fan (via talesofpassingtime)

(via 0aklungs)

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wzu:

Floating no. 3. [2013] - Bence Bakonyi 

8 . 31

agabella:

Romanticisation of Mental Illness, Kelsey Weaver

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When you compare the sorrows of real life to the pleasures of the imaginary one, you will never want to live again, only to dream forever.

—  Alexandre Dumas, from The Count of Monte Cristo (Penguin Classics, 2003, first published in 1845)

(via paintingflowersinwonderland)

8 . 31

How do we forgive ourselves for all of the things we did not become?

—  "14 Lines from Love Letters or Suicide Notes" by David ‘Doc’ Luben (via asimetricna-vagina)

(via asimetricna-vagina)

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