We Are All Prostitutes And Junkies

Drugs, we live it.
Drinks, we need it.
Love, we lost it.

a presadolescent existential crisis. years of teen angst held more insight.

“i’m a light sleeper, but a heavy dreamer.”

always and forever

always and forever

(Source: , via devinutah)

yes they can. and i miss you i miss you i miss you.  ::it doesn’t make sense. It was always such an act to everyone else, but I really miss talking to you. I just wanna see you again. And I really don’t know how to handle it. I cant imagine the possibility of finding someone else in this world who was like you. it continually amazes me that not a day goes by that i dont think of you. i dont think i’ll ever stop, and i dont really want to::

yes they can. and i miss you i miss you i miss you. 

::it doesn’t make sense. It was always such an act to everyone else, but I really miss talking to you. I just wanna see you again. And I really don’t know how to handle it. I cant imagine the possibility of finding someone else in this world who was like you. it continually amazes me that not a day goes by that i dont think of you. i dont think i’ll ever stop, and i dont really want to::

Who lives longer? The man who takes heroin for two years and dies, or a man who lives on roast beef, water and potatoes ‘till 95? One passes his 24 months in eternity. All the years of the beefeater are lived only in time.

—Aldous Huxley

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
Underworld

—Underwold - Born Slippy

loperamuerte:

 Choose Life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol, and dental insurance. Choose fixed interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisurewear and matching luggage. Choose a three-piece suit on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pissing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourselves. Choose your future. Choose life… But why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life. I chose somethin’ else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you’ve got heroin? 

- Mark Renton