Achtung Baby!

Vulnerable and Honest

Helena Kvarnstrom

when I was burned and broken

Pink Floyd: Coming Back To Life

An Anthology of Desires or "drunk on the impossible past.”

Remembrance, like Rembrandt - is dark but festive.
Nabokov

The monarchy of my nympholepsy has lead me here, staring at the last photograph I have of her and wondering if I should delete it. Might as well, being that she has infected my memory just like the others. Each girl was not a wounded bird I couldn't help loving, but actually vultures that devoured the feeling and understanding of Trust from within me.

Your letters got sadder. Your lovers betrayed you. Kid, I wrote back, all lovers betray. It didn’t help. You said you had a crying bench and it was by a bridge and the bridge was over the river and you sat on the crying bench every night and wept for the lovers who had hurt and forgotten you.
Bukowski

Karmin: Jar of Hearts

 

Coincidence is a pimp and a cardsharper in ordinary fiction but a marvelous artist in the patterns of facts recollected by a non-ordinary memorist.
V.N.

 text rain 

in the stars, my brain

Tori Amos: girl disappearing.live

I had opted to be quiet. I had nothing nice to say. why be hurtful? Imagine how I felt when you spewed all the venom I held back right at me . If your goal was to constantly frustrate me, you win. I can't fucking find you. I've come to learn that you know how to torture me like the best of them.

“And then black night. The blackness was sublime.
I felt distributed through space and time:
One foot upon a mountaintop, one hand
Under the pebbles of a panting strand,
One ear in Italy, one eye in Spain,
In caves, my blood, and in the stars, my brain.”

 Canto Two, Pale Fire by Vladimir Nabokov/ reluctantly subject to your disposal... 

Wednesday Panels.The Dark Knight Redux

Being a Frank Miller 2012 recreation of a page from 1986's The Dark Knight Returns.

 via Bleeding Cool 

I will be safe in my frame

Lana Del Ray: Parasol.live

 

 Vader With A Parasol 

atoms joined and inseparable

 - F.Scott Fitzgerald / fuckyeahillustrativeart 

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in the reflected sky

+ Eisley: Head against the sky

 Pale Fire 

"from you i'd be willing to catch terminal cancer"

that unique design for which I yearn

afghan whigs: i can't get enough of your love.live

 

“In spite of everything I loved you, and will go on loving you—on my knees, with my shoulders drawn back, showing my heels to the headsman and straining my goose neck—even then. And afterwards—perhaps most of all afterwards—I shall love you, and one day we shall have a real, all-embracing explanation, and then perhaps we shall somehow fit together, you and I, and turn ourselves in such a way that we form one pattern, and solve the puzzle: draw a line from point A to point B…without looking, or, without lifting the pencil…or in some other way…we shall connect the points, draw the line, and you and I shall form that unique design for which I yearn.”
Vladimir Nabokov, Invitation to a Beheading