9-liquid-morphine-9

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Why does it choke me, this suffocating sense of truth, if it is, in fact, the truth?

Why do I feel as though I am gasping for breath, like some broken-winged crow, powerless to utter a single word?

Might I, plunge a single feather into that tiny, neglected flask—its contents tainted with the remnants of blood—and toss it onto a yellow sheet of paper—like throwing a used-up whore on a grimy mattress,

Ah, perhaps I could.

And in all likelihood, I should. And most certainly, I would, with abandon just shove an orange in someone's mouth and be done with it.

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🎲

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Tarkovsky - Nostalghia

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Sega Bodega for Paper Magazine

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—-

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time goes by and i don’t care anymore

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H. R. Giger

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✞ 666 ✞

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Marcel Duchamp by Man Ray, New York, 1917

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JH - CARAPACE AVAILABLE ONLINE.

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Beautiful views of New York City at 3:30 am.