Oh my god, look at the air. There isn’t much time
put the reactor core under your shirt. We’ve only got
one chance.
Oh my god, look at the air. There isn’t much time
put the reactor core under your shirt. We’ve only got
one chance.
(via theafterswarm)
Everything wants
to organize itself.
Everything tries
to find a way out.
(via vonnegutesque)
Federico García Lorca, “Blood Wedding”
via fuckyeahexistentialism (via frenchtwist)
(via lifeinpoetry)
(Source: ohmisterbird, via theafterswarm)
(via mmbakes)
(Source: chipotlechickenburrito, via youngfolksociety)
(Source: oofpoetry, via fuckitbukowskiwasright)