~   (via odporny)

(Source: a--failure)


you didnt even try

“Every now and then I would feel a violent stab of loneliness. The very water I drank, the very air I breathed, would feel like long, sharp needles. The pages of a book in my hands would take on the threatening metallic gleam of razor blades. I could hear the roots of loneliness creeping through me when the world was hushed at four o’clock in the morning.”
—Haruki Murakami, The Wind-up Bird Chronicle

by Agu Lepkie
~   Unknown (via sereinsky)

(Source: rocknrollbabydoll)