1. text
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    fuckyeahknitting:

psychoticwaltz
I vote yes. 
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    psychotic-torture:

sad black and white blog, I follow back similar

    psychotic-torture:

    sad black and white blog, I follow back similar

    (Source: web-of-a-lie)

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    sacrifices-manager:

 I just can not take my eyes off 

    sacrifices-manager:

     I just can not take my eyes off 

  5. asylum-art:

    korean artist Xoo Ang Choi - DOOSAN Gallery 

    Choi Xoo Ang, the Seoul born artist and dark master of the imagination, has created sculptures at once hyperrealistic and completely nightmarish, making you feel as if your real life has bled into an inescapable, bad dream.

    Twisted tongues, stitched backs and floating heads appear throughout Choi’s polymer clay figures, which display remarkable realism despite their fabulous content. Many of the pieces give metaphorical shape to real issues in modern day Korea, including human rights and abuse.

    Choi Xoo Ang is an emerging mixed media artist based out of Seoul, South Korea who creates figurative sculptures out of clay and resin that examines human rights, society’s pathological state, and sex and gender politics among other themes.

    (via yarazard)

  6. moonlight-driive:

    "Her blonde hair was part of an attempt to to start over and adopt a new persona, following her first suicide attempt in August of 1953." Plath, who had spent six months in psychiatric care following the suicide attempt, had seemed to improve greatly by the the summer of 1954. This period of time has been lovingly referred to by her biographers as her “platinum summer.”

    (via langleav)

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    creatures-alive:

Disturbed Lynx by Jan Drahokoupil
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    sisterofthewolves:

By Vince O’Sullivan

    sisterofthewolves:

    By Vince O’Sullivan

    (via lecoledulibertinage)

  10. nowacking:

    HE LOOKS SO HAPPY

    (Source: assiralsama, via derzauberberg)

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About

I've met God across his long walnut desk with his diplomas hanging on the wall behind him, and God asks me, "Why?"
Why did I cause so much pain?
Didn't I realize that each of us is a sacred, unique snowflake of special unique specialness?
Can't I see that we're all manifestations of love?
I look at God behind his desk, taking notes on a pad, but God's got this all wrong.
We are not special.
We are not crap or trash either. We just are.
We just are, and what happens just happens.
And God says, "No, that's not right."
Yeah. Well. Whatever. You can't teach God anything.

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