Porch Of A Church In A Lunar Landscape, C.1835. Oil On Canvas ― Franz Ludwig Catel (German, 1778-1856)

June Storm by Franz Wright

[june] by Vona Groarke

I am the type of lover that foresees collapse and dives in headfirst anyway. I am the type of lover that knew who he was all along and loved him anyway. I implored him, I craved him at every moment of the day and every second I did not spend with him was a waste of time to me. I loved him, I knew him, with his blood underneath my nails, tears down my shirt, pulling him into me and mourning his body that was still warm in my arms. I knew he wouldn’t stay from the very beginning, yet I played his game simply to draw him out of himself and to experience him fully as a person. I am rich, but not in the way you’d think, but my biggest pleasure in life is coaxing the life and humanity out of people and to collect their impressions on me and see the world as they do. It’s so beautiful to be human. I wish I could live like they do

S02E08 AND THAT'S THE END OF IT. THERE'S NOTHING ELSE script

by immimii

June 15, 1924 Journals of Anais Nin 1923-1927 [volume 3]

requested by anon

*through tears* ladies and gentlemen, they got him

The Young Martyr, 1855 - oil on canvas. — Paul Delaroche (French, 1797-1856) aqua-regia009 art edits

he was literaly.f lookign at buck. btw.