Still trying to decide whether I liked Lars Von Trier’s Antichrist. The constant symbolic visions and references kept me awake and waiting for some spectacular climax, yet I still haven’t figured out what the ending was about. Apart from that I pooped my pants a few times.
(via whitneychantalle)
(via whitneychantalle)
Some days I only like my collarbones. Not the skin that covers them, not the muscles and tendons beneath them, just the bones themselves. Their harshness and symmetry, the way they bracket my body. I find that even when I am at my most unlovable, my skeleton does what it’s meant to, my clavicles sit where they always have, providing a place for fingernail bruises and a reminder that I am harder underneath.
(via inkedpoison)
It’s funny because you wouldn’t actually expect him to start beatboxing.
Feaverish Photography
And thus my Tuesday night ended and my neighbour got arrested.
ready for some freedom now
Rebekka Vanderhaeghen
