synics themes
"Half arsed opinions create panic attacks inside their tea cups. Pleasantries die oh so defiantly against their well invested patrons. The thin lifeline is playing the harp on the saliva between their grinding teeth. Other tables can hear the music, but they cannot sense the melody".
I am inspired by what people feel compelled to lie about and deny to themselves. I am inspired by unrequited loves. I am inspired by the darkness that controls us all. I am pure pain, seeking for release.

syntheticamorbidica:

Hamburger Bahnhof, Body Pressure Sculpture since the 1960s Exhibition

Qasimi Homme Fall/Winter 2013
Cy Twombly
Night Watch, 1966
Anonymous inquires :how are u?

I’m doing horribly, thanks for asking.

I had this distaster of an encounter with a guy, can’t even begin to explain the many levels of fucked up there are to this story. Word of advice ? don’t trust someone who’s more insane than you are. 

I swear there was a day last week when I was fucking manic. I was dancing and singing and I wouldn’t keep my mouth shut, and as fun as it was I was pretty broken up about it when it was over. Like a drop in my sugar levels. 

But..I have this rather deranged yet unique ability to just get over things in a matter of a few hours, so I’m like crossing my fingers praying to the gods of sanity “please bestow upon me the gift of sight and ease”

I’m still in therapy, if things weren’t more complicated as they were, I now have another therapist..someone I’ve been seeing before the current one. 

The bright side of everything is that I feel very inspired due to all of the pressure, the heart break and the disappointments so I find myself writing a lot more than I used to, I hope i’ll get to publish some of it in the future. 

I crush like the waves against the question arised by your skin

John Isaacs, Things that can be are that which we know (Detail), 2011, wax, oil paint, polystyrene, wood, steel, latex and stage blood,
Getting in touch with the dark side @ Gallery Lafayette, Paris.

And more than anything, I wanted to be loved.
I wanted to be appreciated for the things I wasn’t quite convinced I had.
I wanted the validation, and I wanted friendship.
Words have a mirror effect I do not like.
Something so present, and then it is so gone.
My stomach is turning.
I don’t know what to think of myself, all the hurt’s suggesting contradicting ideas
I lost myself again ?
There’s a deep..deep well underneath my feet.
All the loss.
I know I can sink.
This is a race I am eventually going to lose.
The depression is going to catch up with my body
I just don’t know when
And not knowing, is the worst.

Iv Solyaev
aerbor:

exist, 2011
uvre:

Rei Kawakubo, Donald Drawbertson.