Fuck them. Dying doesn’t scare me. I’ll be in hell. With Satan. That’s gotta be a better place than this. I’d rather die than live in a cage. Fuck that shit, man.
Richard Ramirez. (via dichotomization)

'This Loneliness Won't Be The Death Of Me' ➳ Being As An Ocean ♡


'This Loneliness Won't Be The Death Of Me' ➳ Being As An Ocean ♡






Rest stops on highways are liminal spaces where the veil is thin and nobody can tell me differently


The explanation is that liminal spaces are in between places that bridge Here with There, so in fairy tales we often have the Fairy Ring, the Forest Clearing, the Sudden Misty Foggy Forest, the Bridge, the River, graveyards, in some cases

We also have a ton of american urban mythology around famous roadways and sites off the sides of roads

Archetypes like these occur to mark the places in the world where the veil goes thin and humans can have extra-worldly experiences, out of the ordinary way of living

So why wouldn’t transient spaces like rest stops where everyone is just passing through from one place to the next, never stopping for too long, not be a liminal space where spirits frequent, too

Especially since nobody would know if they were real or not

This is how I feel about airports. I hate going through security, but once I’m in, I’m nowhere and everywhere. Neither here nor there.

i was about to mention airports. i used to talk about that with my friend sean. i get the same feeling in the big circular part of penn station where the amtrak platforms are. theres always “classical” (in the colloquial sense) music soft tumbling down from the high ceiling like a red leaf. one time it was satie’s gymnopedies and i thought maybe i’d diffuse into the air and drift off with the steam from my paper coffee cup 

Contact with another body reminds you that you have a body, a fact you are trying very hard to forget.
Marya Hornbacher, Wasted (via cyanine)


Life hack: conquer your fear of the dark by becoming the thing other people fear in the dark.


For all the thousands of gods that we know, there are thousands even more. Some have names and faces and some have neither. Obscurity is a weapon, but who wields it is the key. Is it hiding or is it hidden? Whispers in the dark can be anyone who has a voice. 

Limits are made by men, not gods. 

And how many gods were once men?

Tread carefully.