(via acidwonderland)
We think we know ourselves, when we really know only this little bitty part. We have this social person that we present to each other. We all have these galaxies inside of us. And if we don’t enter those in art of one kind or another, whether it’s playwriting, or painting, or music, or whatever, then I don’t understand the point in doing anything. It’s the reason I write. I try to go into parts of myself that are unknown…I’m not doing this to vent demons. I want to shake hands with them.
“that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer”
(via vogueorvodka)
(via dat-sick)
(via belle-de-nuit)
(via acidwonderland)
(via vogueorvodka)
Nothing bad could happen to you at Tiffany’s
(via hollywoodcalliefornia)
(via vogueorvodka)