you dont remember dressing up

if you know you don’t matter, then you are so much better.

strip yourself off your identity, submit yourself for service, for eternity.

you’re disposable, the grand sight of existence and the truth, now all a possibility.

murder was my sexual fantasy, halted i was, by my asexuality.

i guess it has to come externally, protecting a king, a drug lord or humanity.

❝ piece of art with a beautiful heart. i’m taking deep breaths thinking about this apparent death. ideally, i’d deal and not feel. but fauxreal? ❞
( via ch’aysh )

things i want #01: this t-shirt.

let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain 

life’s long, so be careful.


you listen to metal now too, and notice how the white of my eyes are blue. you do a great job believing your life could be over any time. you live it up. maybe that’s why you’ll be fifty, in debt, with three kids, and a wife who’s rubbish, and a tattoo on your back that says “punk for life”, with no future for your kids. it’s sad how you hid behind “life’s short, so live it up”. you prepared for death. but death only betrayed your sorry heart. 

❝ Death does not concern us, because as long as we exist, death is not here. And when it does come, we no longer exist. ❞
Epicurus 

almost died yesterday, while driving in the rain on a highway. 

horned for my life. and i was saved. and i was like, omg thank you god.