3 am
morning is mocking me

I know it hurts
You know I’d quench that thirst
You say you’re lonely
I say you think about it
'Cause you're the only
One who resonates that chase mouth open like

HIGHER THAN A MOTHERFUCKER
Dreaming of it, it’s my loving
Flying like a stream of thunder
ONLY THING LEFT TO DO IS EACH OTHER
Pull out the insides and give me two weeks 
YOU WON’T RECOGNIZE HER
Mouth open, YOU’RE HIGH

I know it hurts
You know I’d put you first
I can fuck you better, baby
You say you want me
I say you live without it
Unless you’re the only
One who instigates 
Get your mouth open, you’re high

Feel your body closing
I can rip it open
Suck me up, I’m healing
With all the shit you’re dealing
Smoke on this here to get those pretty eyes open
My thighs are apart for when you’re ready to breathe in
Suck me up, I’m healing
With all the shit you’re dealing
Motherfucker, get your mouth open, you know you’re mine

(Source: cluts)

"Blue" Behind the Scenes

(Source: photograbey)

ooshoosh:

intensional:

thecarnalstate:

spoon-chan:

whats even happening in this

nice

hot

This is what the inside of my brain looks like

(Source: willlaren)

rosemarys-baby-daddy:

Rinko Kikuchi

(Source: thehausucat)

iknowwhyshespeaks:

postracialcomments:

gang0fwolves:

lifeofnoir:

And in one post, I’ve found heaven!

i want 5 of each

Where and how much?!?!?!

This post fucked me up. Now all I want is the greasiest burger I can find.

ayo i don’t even like burgers but

(Source: bastianschweinsteiqer)

your-eyes-swallow-me:

lora-mathis:

Girl, an ongoing series 
by Lora Mathis 

I’m a guy and I’m reblogging this because I am sorry. 

(Source: hiromitsu)

ufck

(Source: vincecarters)

faromush:

Tajikistan

paintdeath:

Michael Carson

(Source: englishsnow)

Brett Whiteley (Australian, 1939-1992), The Divided Unity, 1974. Screenprint, 66.5 x 93.5 cm. Edition 63/70.

(Source: blastedheath)

sparrow-chan:

In Slavic mythology, water nymphs (rusalki) are anthropomorphic creatures without fish tail who lived at the bottom of rivers. In the middle of the night, they would walk out to the bank and dance in meadows. If they saw handsome men, they would fascinate them with songs and dancing, but if there are no men nearby, they would gladly play and entertain each other.

In some legends, their eyes shine like green fire, others describe them with extremely pale and translucent skin. Her hair is sometimes depicted as green or golden, and often perpetually wet. According to some legends, should the rusalka’s hair dry out, she will die.