lust-end

[lust-end]

[lust-end]

you can’t even dig up your lovers grave and pry open their casket and cradle their corpse to your chest anymore. because of woke

[lust-end]

You, my love. Come back, oh come back.

July 17, 1897 Rilke and Andreas-Salomé: a love story in letters (1897-1926)

[lust-end]

[lust-end]

i looooove industrial music it’s like if electronic music wanted to kill you

[lust-end]

[lust-end]

[lust-end]

Holly Faram, John Willie’s wife and muse

[lust-end]

[lust-end]

Zoroastrian Dakhma interior.

[lust-end]

[lust-end]

Hospital Productions.

"Underground shrine for noise and black metal"

60 East 3rd St. New York, NY. I0003-9239, USA

[lust-end]

[lust-end]

emotions, uncontrollable feelings June 23, 1924 Journals of Anais Nin 1923-1927 [volume 3]

[lust-end]

I kiss the ground she walks on, but she treats me like dirt.

I just want something from you even if it hurts.

And the more it hurts, the more I need you.

And the more I need you, the more of me you take.

And you take, and you take, and you take.

A little more each day. In different ways.

Until I'm only tatters and shreds of myself.

You. Run. Me. Out.

You kick me when I'm down and spit in my face.

And you remind me of all the things I hate about myself.

Love kills. Bit by bit.

Like sand in our hourglass.

Or seconds in a minute.

You. Run. Me. Out.

Again.

[lust-end]

Love is an endless well of fire, it cannot be exstringished.

It can only engulf you.

And you will burn, so quietly.

You will burn, and burn and burn.

And all around you will burn, until there is nothing.

Nothing, again.

[lust-end]

I feel like they had absolutely depraved marathon sex sessions lol.

Edit: Damn,she killed herself.

Hans Bellmer & Unica Zurn