"He drew her very tenderly close and their lips met like starved hearts."

— F. Scott Fitzgerald, At Your Age (via fitzgeraldquotes)

(via dirtytucson)

whatarefilms:

Jenny Lewis, “Acid Tongue” 

Let’s build ourselves a fire …
My own personal zen.

My own personal zen.

winonaryderpics:

Smokeeee

winonaryderpics:

Smokeeee

(Source: tedbunny)

Everything dies baby that’s a fact
But maybe everything that dies someday comes back

(Source: n-j-d)

perfectlycrystal:

"Lust for Life" - Girls

Oh, I wish I had a boyfriend
I wish I had a loving man in my life
I wish I had a father
Maybe then I would’ve turned out right

And now I’m just crazy, I’m totally mad
Yeah, I’m just crazy, and fucked in the head
And maybe if I really try with all of my heart
Then I could make a brand new start in love with you

Oh, I wish I had a suntan
I wish I had a pizza and a bottle of wine
I wish I had a beach house
Then we could make a big fire every night

Instead I’m just crazy, I’m totally mad
Yeah I’m just crazy, and fucked in the head
And maybe if I really try with all of my heart
Then I could make a brand new start in love with you

C’mon c’mon c’mon Kayla

I’ll try my best, how much do I invest?
Like cardiac arrest, high voltage in her lips
I’ll try my best, how much do I invest?
Like cardiac arrest, high voltage when we kiss

(Source: myrandomplaylist, via myrandomplaylist)


Amy Winehouse photographed in London in 2004


Stunning.

Amy Winehouse photographed in London in 2004

Stunning.

(Source: jakechessumblog, via historyartandhedonism)

panic-pixie:

Jenny Lewis - “The Voyager”

Guys just want to f*ck.

Guys just want to fuck.

I’ll say it again, guys just want to fuck.

I know the exact response to this statement from many guys would probably be something along the lines of, “Not all of us are like that.” My response: Yes, you all are. You were put on this earth to procreate. Your only reason for existence is to fuck. You fuck, you make more of you, and so on. Are we clear?

Ok.

This doesn’t make me angry. I am a grown woman mature enough to know the difference between mind games and the real deal. At least, I thought by now I was. However, I’d have more respect for men if they would be upfront and honest with me from day one, instead of playing their ever elusive mind games. If a guy approached me and said, “Sarah, all I want you for is a few fucks,” I’d have MORE respect for him than the douchebags that string me along pretending to be interested in more than just sex.

Here’s where I share a story.

In February, I met a guy online. Let’s call him Dick (ironically, the nickname for his actual name is so well suited!). Dick and I Skyped and texted for a couple of weeks before going out. We went on two dates, spaced about two weeks apart. The way dates should be. After all, it’s better to keep a little mystery at first, isn’t it? Give you hunter-gatherers a little something to, well, gather?

Dick stares at my eyes and tells me how beautiful I am. He tells me how unlike all the other women I am. I am unique. I am special. I am rare.

And then, Dick completely vanishes. Poof! Gone! My assumption was because I didn’t open my legs, he took it upon himself to find someone who would. Rude, but fair enough.

Two months later Dick sends me a message saying how “sorry” he was for disappearing on me because I’m such a “great” person and it was a terrible thing that he didn’t explain himself. Whatever.

The truth is, my heart pounded the first time I saw him. My pulse raced and my palms were sweaty. My knees were weak and all I wanted was to crawl into a ball with this man and stay there for eternity. It was most certainly love at first sight.

I couldn’t stop thinking about him for months. My heart was broken so terribly last year, and that first lub dub of excitement shocked me back alive again. I HAD to contact him.

In early August I messaged him. He answered IMMEDIATELY. He described me as an octopus with deadly poisonous suckers. I latched on to him. I made an impression. A good one at that. We met up, talked on an isolated beach for hours not more than five inches apart from each other. I saw my first meteor shower with him. We played mind games. He read my mind. READ MY MIND. He could literally tell me what it was I was thinking. And vice versa.

He wouldn’t kiss me. Refused to touch me. He had to know more of my mind and my soul first. So that’s what we did. We’d sit and stare at each other. Memorize each other. The most erotic, exciting, exquisite feast of body I’ve ever had, and I didn’t even touch him.

A few days later he sat across from me. Put his hand on my throat and pulled me close. Pressed his lips on mine and for a few seconds moaned as he breathed me in. He then traced my lips with his lips. And then the kiss. THAT FUCKING KISS.

The sex. The marathon. His skin. His mouth. His everything.

A few nights of this. Pancakes in the morning. Sex at 3am, just because.

Then he went away again. Two weeks of texts. A convenience. This time, he’s not coming back. I’m just not “enough.” He wants to be FRIENDS. No further explanation.

He knew a few days ago but didn’t want to upset me because he knew school had started. Oh, thanks for being so kind!

That bullshit.

That “friend” bullshit that only men-children do. I told him he led me on, he told me I was “PERCEIVED to be led on.” What is that? Isn’t it enough that he used me? He then felt compelled to one-up me.

My heart is once again torn to shreds. Except this time, I know with every power of my being it’s not me. I am beautiful, intelligent, thoughtful, kind, terrific in bed, and holy crap am I funny. Do you know how many years it took for me to realize this? I’m a good person with a huge heart. I want love. The REAL deal. I’m too old for these games.

If you want to fuck me that terribly, just tell me on day one. I’m going to say no, but at least you can be man enough to put it out there.

anvitality:

Death Cab For Cutie - “Crooked Teeth”

"I’m a war, of head versus heart,
And it’s always this way.
My head is weak, my heart always speaks,
Before I know what it will say.”