“I’ll make the most of all the sadness,
You’ll be a bitch because you can.
You try to hit me just to hurt me
So you leave me feeling dirty
Because you can’t understand.
We’re going down, and you can see it too.
We’re going down, and you know that we’re doomed.
My dear, we’re slow dancing in a burning room.”
No, I’m not mad. I just don’t want to care anymore.
The heart lies and the head plays tricks with us, but the eyes see true. Look with your eyes. Hear with your ears. Taste with your mouth. Smell with your nose. Feel with your skin. Then comes the thinking, afterwards, and in that way knowing the truth.
I have wasted too many beautiful words on people that don’t deserve them.
-M.E.
“you know what your problem is? you care to much.”
maybe i do… how could i not?
You call yourself a free spirit, a “wild thing,” and you’re terrified somebody’s gonna stick you in a cage. Well baby, you’re already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it’s not bounded in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somali-land. It’s wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself.
Carmel Residence by Dirk Denison Architects
Rado Redux a project by Peter Gluck and Partners
Rudolph Schindler - King’s road/Schindler house, West Hollywood 1922. Via Grant Mudford.
(via architectureblog)
-what happened to him?
-what happens to any man?… a woman.
