février 2012
16 billets
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two boys in a bed on a cold winter’s night.
La vie romanesque
Jour après jour, les amours mortes, n’en finissent pas de mourir.
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I want to wake up in a city that never sleeps.
janvier 2012
56 billets
“Qui aimes-tu le mieux, homme enigmatique, dis? ton père, ta mère, ta soeur ou...”
– Baudelaire: Petits poèmes en prose, I (1869)
I’ve been waiting for a guide to come and take me by the hand.
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You know I don’t mean half the things I say, So just ignore the half that you don’t like.
“Don’t you hate that? Uncomfortable silence. Why do we feel it’s necessary to...”
– Pulp Fiction
She whispers me bye-bye, She wants to see a boy cry, She wants to hear a boy sigh, She wants to see a boy lie, A tear ran down my spine.
“So therefore I dedicate myself to myself, to my art, my sleep, my dreams, my...”
– Jack Kerouac (via apathie)
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You see, to me, the best part of sex is walking home, holding hands, after swimming in the lake. To me, the best part of love is when you say, you’ll be my friend.
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“C’est vrai, il faut attendre de dépiauter les cadeaux de Noël pour mesurer à...”
– Daniel Pennac - Merci (via lamemoiredesjours)
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You used to be so pretty, but now you’re just tragic, believe in something, you’re full of horseshit.
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