this evenings outfit: new white dress that i’ve taken hostage from stef’s wardrobe, and my new burberry trench coat ;) weee
"It was a breath of wind, that, twisting your great tresses,
Brought strange rumours of your dreaming mind;
It was your heart, listening to the song of Nature,
In the groans of the trees and the sighs of the nights."
– Ophelia, by Arthur Rimbaud (via mirroir)
by cheapocheapo
by yeptea
if my work could actually pay me what i’m supposed to get paid, and put me on for more shifts so that i could actually survive, that would be really fucking brilliant.
i am so angry.
by visual-me
by scarymum
sitting here thinking “i should be on millionaire hot seat, i’ve gotten all of these questions right”
reached a new high point in my life
i just got a voicemail from someone at (i think) kikki k? the guy was talking so fast that i couldn’t understand if that was where the job was, or what number to call back on. so frustrating.
One image which appears in many of Magritte’s paintings is that of his mother. He saw her fished from the river Sambre at the age of fourteen, she had committed suicide. The body was found naked apart from a nightgown which obscured only the face as it was tangled around her. This somewhat indelible image can be seen in many of Magritte’s paintings.
by sanctuum
xeno
n. the smallest measurable unit of human connection, typically exchanged between passing strangers—a flirtatious glance, a sympathetic nod, a shared laugh about some odd coincidence—moments that are fleeting and random but still contain powerful emotional nutrients that can alleviate the symptoms of feeling alone.
by larmoyante
