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❛ No one ever really gets used to nightmares. ❜

* 𝙷𝙾𝚄𝚂𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚅𝙴𝚂 𝙼𝙴𝙼𝙴 : OPEN

    Victor Fries looked up from his newspaper to glance at the only other person sitting in the rather dull looking waiting room .  Pale blue eyes blinked a couple of times as he drank the man’s appearance in (even if a bit apprehensively) . He looked, above all things, tired ; far more tired than Dr. Fries. And he would have said he fit right into the psychiatrist’s severe looking decor were it not for his brightly colored jacket . There was some fun there , SOMETHING DARING . That was good, Victor thought . Since his wife had found out about her illness all she did was dress in BLACK AND GREY , trying to sink into the background, become part of Gotham’s asphalt , allow herself to fade away without anyone noticing . But Victor couldn’t worry . He had no time for it . HE’D FIND A WAY TO FIX THIS .

The Doctor folded his newspaper , his head bowing down a bit sheepishly when realizing he had left the man’s sentence hanging for a second too long .           ❝    ━━   I can’t recall the last time I’ve had a nightmare. ❞      He admitted, leaning back against his chair, offering a small smile at the rather fragile looking man .        ❝  My mind isn’t creative enough to horrify me. ❞     There was supposed to be humor in his words, but instead, Victor was met with a bitter taste over his tongue. He too sounded tired. Tired of doctors and psychiatrists and medication ; all that was supposed to make his wife’s end EASIER FOR HER only seemed to bring her more misery . Dear beautiful Nora ... He imagined her sobbing behind that closed door to a stranger who was paid to tell her to LET GO. Victor bent one leg over the other, trying to focus on his chatting buddy rather than the outrage poking at his guts .

         ❝  My dreams are always about the how rather than the if . Solving issues rather than exploring them. ❞     He thought about offering the other man a smile. But whatever optimism he might have hidden in the corners of his lips died out at the sight of his wife, shutting the door behind her with swollen red eyes .    ❝  But I’m not entirely sure that’s an healthier option . ❞    

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THIS IS HOW I WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER YOU . Surrounded by winter. Forever young. Forever beautiful. Rest well, my love. The monster who took you from me will soon learn that revenge is a dish best served cold.    /    DO NOT REBLOG .

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“Imagine being sentient but not alive. Seeing and even knowing, but not alive. Just looking out. Recognizing but not being alive. A person can die and still go on. Sometimes what looks out at you from a person’s eyes maybe died back in childhood.”

Philip K Dick, a scanner darkly (via therevdanjones)

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From “The Flowers of Evil” by Charles Beaudelaire Funeral Parade of Roses (薔薇の葬列) (1969) Dir. Matsumoto Toshio

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Digital Versicolor - Glass Candy.

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❛ Any fool can pray. ❜

* 𝙷𝙾𝚄𝚂𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚅𝙴𝚂 𝙼𝙴𝙼𝙴 : OPEN

                     ❝  Do I dare ask?   ❞     It is more of a question to himself than to the clown standing on the opposite side of the glass . Victor had a tendency for the theatrics but THE JOKER was on a whole different level . He had been pinching the bridge of his nose , trying to ignore the alarm which echoed through the halls of the Asylum in warning . But it was quite difficult to ignore the atrocity staring at him , very much like a child would stare at the dying polar bears left to rot in the depths of some zoo’s still watered ponds . Victor thought of himself as weak then , because he couldn’t resist glancing at the clown . Pale blue eyes found him and , by god , he was horrific . The flashing red lights , which were supposed to indicate the nearest emergency exit , had turned the runaway patient into nothing short of a devil . One moment there , the next gone . In those short intervals of darkness , Joker ceased to exist . But his face had remained imprinted in Victor’s mind , always    ━━    A SMILE HE COULD NEVER FORGET .

                           He would have claimed to be scared of the madman were his nerves not stilled by a thick layer of ice . There was very little of the soft man he used to be . Even without his suit , Victor had become more machine than man , still able to copy human sentiment but incapable of truly committing to the part . The Joker BOTHERED HIM ; little more could be said .  Still he preferred to remain seated , far from the glass and from the clown that taunted him for speaking to himself . This was the closest thing to normalcy he could find in that place . Having pretend conversations with Nora in the limited privacy of his frigid cell . 

                                                                                         ❝  What god do you pray to?   ❞    

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❛ Darkness never satisfies. Especially if it takes something away which it almost always invariably does. ❜ // from sunny

* 𝙷𝙾𝚄𝚂𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚅𝙴𝚂 𝙼𝙴𝙼𝙴 : OPEN

        He kept his distance . A pair of glowing red eyes stared at the creature before him : tabloids had named her SOLAR FLARE , a star which had fallen into earth and set the criminal world ablaze . Her stories were publicized as a thing of wonder but already the public had begun to question whether it was appropriate to call her a hero . Mankind was far crueler than any winter . Only they could turn saints into sinners .  Fear made them all ugly . And this girl was no exception .       ❝  Something has been taken away .   ❞       Victor replied, his words distorted into something that only resembled a human voice . He raised a gun then, aiming the large barrel towards the young woman . It didn’t matter how pure her intentions might have been , ALL THAT MATTERED WAS NORA . And if the whole world had to suffer the harshest winter in history in order for him to bring her back , so be it . The sound of machinery powering itself back to life filled the alley .  

                     ❝  And darkness had nothing to do with it .   ❞       

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Wings of Desire (1987) dir. Wim Wenders

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i see that mobile header and all i can think about is either jeff golblum strolling out buck naked or mr brundlefly agonizing inside there's no in between

all i can think about is naked brundlefly petting 1 good boy

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❛ These days fantasies flourish and die like summer flies. ❜

* 𝙷𝙾𝚄𝚂𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚅𝙴𝚂 𝙼𝙴𝙼𝙴 : OPEN

         ❝   flourish.    ❞        the voice which echoed jonathan crane sounded barely human . the single word was filtrated through a suit meant to keep victor fries alive , reverberating against metal and glass and tubes . he was more machine than man at this point ; copying human behavior without ever FULLY COMMITTING . but how could he ? fries had created his own prison , he traveled with it wherever he went . limited and pristine ; a snow globe in which he himself was part of the clockwork . victor blinked and watched as the other man’s breath condensed before his very eyes . a warm LIVING BODY . oh , how victor envied him.  ❝   do you mock me , dr. crane ?    ❞       he had always been such a soft spoken man . before the accident everyone found his tone to be endearing . nowadays it was nothing short of UNSETTLING . victor fries had forgotten ( or perhaps ceased caring ) about the part emotions had to play in certain social interactions .  instead he stripped every sentence , every action , of sentimentality . his voice was a naked tree in wintertime . and his stare was the ice which spread across its’ trunk like an INFECTIOUS DISEASE . 

               ❝   look around you .    ❞  victor suggested , his heavy boot stepping forward , daring to oppose crane’s moist air with something colder   ━━    that moistness stuck to jonathan’s shirt was a souvenir he carried around with him from the swamps ; yellow and heavy and oozing with the stench of man ; THERE WAS NO ROOM FOR THAT IN VICTOR’S WORLD .

                                                                      ❝    𝙽𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙶𝚁𝙾𝚆𝚂 𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴 .    ❞      

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𝙹𝚄𝚂𝚃 𝙰𝚂 𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚈 𝙰𝚄𝚃𝚄𝙼𝙽 𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚅𝙴𝚂 𝙵𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙼 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚃𝚁𝙴𝙴 𝚃𝚄𝙼𝙱𝙻𝙴 𝚃𝙾 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙶𝚁𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙳𝙸𝙴 𝚂𝙾 𝙸𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙿𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴 , 𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴 𝚂𝚆𝙴𝙴𝚃 𝙼𝙴𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙸𝙴𝚂 , 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈 𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙻 𝚁𝙴𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽 𝙰𝚂 𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙻 𝙸. 𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝚄𝙽 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝚁, 𝚄𝙿𝙾𝙽 𝙷𝙸𝙶𝙷 , 𝚆𝙴'𝙻𝙻 𝚁𝙴𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝚁 , 𝚃𝙾 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙺𝚈! 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚆𝙴'𝙻𝙻 𝙱𝙰𝙽𝙸𝚂𝙷 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙿𝙰𝙸𝙽 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙾𝚁𝚁𝙾𝚆   ━━   𝚄𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙻 𝚃𝙾𝙼𝙾𝚁𝚁𝙾𝚆, 𝙶𝙾𝙾𝙳𝙱𝚈𝙴 !

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                 BOOK STARTERS VOL.23   ( HOUSE OF LEAVES )  ( MARK Z. DANIELEWSKI )

❛ It may be the wrong decision, but fuck it, it’s mine. ❜

❛ Like patience, passion comes from the same Latin root: pati. It does not mean to flow with exuberance. It means to suffer. ❜

❛ No one ever really gets used to nightmares. ❜

❛ I still get nightmares. In fact, I get them so often I should be used to them by now. I’m not. ❜

❛ Sublime is something you choke on after a shot of tequila. ❜

❛ Some people reflect light, some deflect it, you by some miracle, seem to collect it. ❜

❛ Beautiful women are always drawn to men they think will keep them beautiful. ❜

❛ The ruminations are mine, let the world be yours. ❜

❛ You will fulfil a promise I made years ago but failed to keep. ❜

❛ Darkness never satisfies. Especially if it takes something away which it almost always invariably does. ❜

❛ I want something else. I’m not even sure what to call it anymore. ❜

❛ What can I say, I’m a sucker for abandoned stuff, misplaced stuff, forgotten stuff, any old stuff. ❜

❛ Is it possible to love something so much, you imagine it wants to destroy you only because it has denied you? ❜

❛ It’s just silent, no sound at all. It’s like something’s waiting. ❜

❛ I guess I’m hoping the weapons will make me feel better, grant me some kind of fucking control. ❜

❛ Oh and something else: – Fuck you. ❜

❛ God I’ve never been afraid like this. ❜

❛ I miss you. I love you. There’s no second I’ve lived that you can’t call your own. ❜

❛ I’m so tired. Sleep’s been stalking me for too long to remember. Inevitable I suppose. ❜

❛ Not seeing the rip doesn’t mean you automatically get to keep clear of the Hey-I’m-Bleeding part. ❜

❛ These days fantasies flourish and die like summer flies. ❜

❛ Yeah I know, I know. This shit’s getting ridiculous. ❜

❛ ‘Fuck’ and ‘fall for’ have very different meanings. The first one you do as much as you can. The second one you never ever, ever do. ❜

❛ It’s a nice idea but it reeks of hope. False hope. ❜

❛ It’s, well…one thing in two words: fucked up…very fucked up. Okay three words, four words, who the hell cares…very very fucked up. ❜

❛ Do you think I could spend the night at your place?  ❜

❛ Any fool can pray. ❜

❛ I feel like I haven’t slept in months. My neighbours are scared of me. ❜

❛ I’ve lost my mind? Maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe I’m just really drunk. ❜

❛ Perhaps by cleaning out my system I’ll come to a clearing where I can ease myself into peace. ❜

❛ I should be dead. Why am I still here? ❜

❛ Fuck if I know. Your guess is as good as mine. ❜

❛ You are my flesh. You are my bones. I know you too well. I read you too perfectly. ❜

❛ Not all complex problems have easy solutions. ❜

❛ Do you believe in God? I don’t think I ever asked you that one. ❜

❛ We all create stories to protect ourselves. ❜

❛ Are you kidding me? This place is scary. ❜

❛ These days the only thing that gets me outside is when I say: Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck you. Fuck me. Fuck this. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. ❜

❛ You like that crap because it reminds you of you. ❜

❛ You may suddenly realise things are not how you perceived them to be at all. ❜

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my aesthetic is a group of gothcorp employees who stayed working late leaving their offices, rubbing the back of their necks, asking each others if they go any plans for the weekend, making small talk about their kids and the weather but when they try to call for the elevator they notice the button doesn’t light up. they say something like you gotta be kidding me , and they just got it fixed before they all decide to take the stairs. and they get past the first couple of floors, giggling and joking around. but after a while they start to complain about the temperature and how the AC must be broken too and how those facilities were shit and how boyle was gonna file for bankruptcy soon you just wait! but suddenly all the lights go out. and the whole group groans. between the clattering teeth and them fumbling around looking for something to light the way, they hear something at the bottom of the stairs. the sound of a machine starting up. of fans spinning, of electricity powering up. and from the pitch blackness, just a flight of stairs below, a pair of bright red eyes stares right at them.

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Any given man sees only a tiny portion of the total truth, and very often, in fact almost…perpetually, he deliberately deceives himself about that precious little fragment as well.

(via themollieshow)

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𝙹𝚄𝚂𝚃 𝙰𝚂 𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚈 𝙰𝚄𝚃𝚄𝙼𝙽 𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚅𝙴𝚂 𝙵𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙼 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚃𝚁𝙴𝙴 𝚃𝚄𝙼𝙱𝙻𝙴 𝚃𝙾 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙶𝚁𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙳𝙸𝙴 𝚂𝙾 𝙸𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙿𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴 , 𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴 𝚂𝚆𝙴𝙴𝚃 𝙼𝙴𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙸𝙴𝚂 , 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈 𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙻 𝚁𝙴𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽 𝙰𝚂 𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙻 𝙸. 𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝚄𝙽 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝚁, 𝚄𝙿𝙾𝙽 𝙷𝙸𝙶𝙷 , 𝚆𝙴'𝙻𝙻 𝚁𝙴𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝚁 , 𝚃𝙾 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙺𝚈! 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚆𝙴'𝙻𝙻 𝙱𝙰𝙽𝙸𝚂𝙷 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙿𝙰𝙸𝙽 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙾𝚁𝚁𝙾𝚆   ━━   𝚄𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙻 𝚃𝙾𝙼𝙾𝚁𝚁𝙾𝚆, 𝙶𝙾𝙾𝙳𝙱𝚈𝙴 !