MAKE-BELIEVE



♡ ALISHA / OHIO / LIFE ♡


write me a letter.

find me in the real world.


jeannepompadour:

Anita Berber by Madame D’Ora, Vienna, 1923

jeannepompadour:

Anita Berber by Madame D’Ora, Vienna, 1923

(via suicideblonde)

— 5 days ago with 495 notes
chapelofthechimes:

You can pre-order Mallory Whitten’s Collected Poems & Stories here.

chapelofthechimes:

You can pre-order Mallory Whitten’s Collected Poems & Stories here.

(Source: htmlgiant.com, via monsterhousepress)

— 5 days ago with 31 notes
"It’s just that I feel so sad these wonderful nights. I sort of feel they’re never coming again, and I’m not really getting all I could out of them."
F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise (via fitzgeraldquotes)
— 3 weeks ago with 1819 notes
"Sometimes I don’t know whether Zelda and I are real or whether we are characters in one of my novels."
F. Scott Fitzgerald, 1933 (via fitzgeraldquotes)
— 3 weeks ago with 739 notes

Crystal Renn - Jean Paul Gaultier Spring 2006 Paris

Crystal Renn - Jean Paul Gaultier Spring 2006 Paris

(via suicideblonde)

— 3 weeks ago with 3222 notes
"All I wanted was to be part of an underground world where the sun doesn’t shine, there are no love songs, and the sound of children’s laughter is never, ever heard."
Hitomi Kanehara (via blackestdespondency)

(via blackestdespondency)

— 4 months ago with 25 notes
"Leave the dishes.
Let the celery rot in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator
and an earthen scum harden on the kitchen floor.
Leave the black crumbs in the bottom of the toaster.
Throw the cracked bowl out and don’t patch the cup.
Don’t patch anything. Don’t mend. Buy safety pins.
Don’t even sew on a button.
Let the wind have its way, then the earth
that invades as dust and then the dead
foaming up in gray rolls underneath the couch.
Talk to them. Tell them they are welcome.
Don’t keep all the pieces of the puzzles
or the doll’s tiny shoes in pairs, don’t worry
who uses whose toothbrush or if anything
matches, at all.
Except one word to another. Or a thought.
Pursue the authentic — decide first
what is authentic,
then go after it with all your heart.
Your heart, that place
you don’t even think of cleaning out.
That closet stuffed with savage mementos.
Don’t sort the paper clips from screws from saved baby teeth
or worry if we’re all eating cereal for dinner
again. Don’t answer the telephone, ever,
or weep over anything at all that breaks.
Pink molds will grow within those sealed cartons
in the refrigerator. Accept new forms of life
and talk to the dead
who drift in though the screened windows, who collect
patiently on the tops of food jars and books.
Recycle the mail, don’t read it, don’t read anything
except what destroys
the insulation between yourself and your experience
or what pulls down or what strikes at or what shatters
this ruse you call necessity."
— 4 months ago with 1122 notes