Stars to live by. Stars to steer by. Stars to die by.
Death, it turns out, is the mother of all conflicts.
We did not just go to the stars. We became the stars.
There's no second ive lived you can't call your own
It may be the wrong decision, but fuck it, it's mine.
I must read. I must read.I must read.
Do you really think the munificence of the multiverse comes translatable for your little mind? Have you ever thought to consider all that you miss whenever you're shown what is suited to your seeing?
Les jeux sont faits. Nous sommes fucked.
Maturity, one discovers, has everything to do with the acceptance of ‘not knowing.
Love's love in her blackest season.
By now you've probably noticed that except when safely contained by quotes, Zampanò always steers clear of such questionable four-letter language. This instance in particular proves that beneath all t...
And there you have it, another body on the floor surrounded by things that don't mean much to anyone except to the one who can't take any of them along.
You wouldn't believe how much harder it's getting for me to just leave my studio. It's really sad. In fact these days the only thing that gets me outside is when I say: Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck you. Fuc...
This is not for you.
No one ever really gets used to nightmares.
No gunfire, famine, or flies. Just lots of toothpaste, gardening and people stuff.
I'm all soils west when the Earth lets go. I'm a thousand Julys.
He loved more than anything to fly. His sole conflict was with gravity.
Do we miss not only the past but every future the lost past describes? Is that just the nature of missing? All the lost might-have-beens? The certainty that those uncertain futures are gone?
Two kisses in one kiss was all it took, a comfort, a warmth, perhaps temporary, perhaps false, but reassuring nonetheless, and mine, and theirs, ours, all three of us giggling, insane giggles and laug...