"Seek happy nights to happy days..."
yum yum fry up in my tummy
Blood gang fairy cakes
Luke baking without waking
Heath
Camden Lights
Bliss Bottled
These amazing little bottles of life are designed by Japanese architect Akinobu. From jelly fish to people playing in the park these are very sweet little bottles to own, a well worth the money too. I love them. You can buy them at www.etsy.com/people/tinyworldinabottle enjoy!
Brightonia by J.Mullinger
Brightonia
Where did they go, those lost Brighton nights?
When our minds were at sea and we sipped Special Brew round corners,
When we skimmed slates on stoned beaches,
and mumbled our death laments on alcoholic sofas
half spilt in the broken morning.
Where did they go, those Brighton nights?
When we seduced the world and ourselves into giddy abandonment,
When we slouched on lampposts as we spun our yarns to midnight maidens,
before we ran off home to wade through the waste accumulated
and flop into temporary paralysis.
Where did they go, those Brighton weeks,
Spent on floors with our conscience strewn throughout unknown postcodes
and our conversation 100 miles per hour,
or else caped in stupored silence.
Where did they go, those warped days of Brightonia?
When we raced the sunset dressed in nothing but our hangovers and changing youth,
When we turned heads and chased tails endlessly in damp corridors and strange houses
and everywhere in between.
When we slumped on vast slopes and sang songs in frenzy,
and spent our last pennies repeatedly on a Good Time.
Where did it go, that skewed world Brightonia?
When we fucked with our very essence,
When we fought off tomorrow and dreamt about yesterday,
When we wallowed in the purgatory that we carved hand to mouth,
When we knew that it was us till the end and we waited for nobody
When our minds were at sea and we sipped Special Brew round corners,
When we skimmed slates on stoned beaches,
and mumbled our death laments on alcoholic sofas
half spilt in the broken morning.
Where did they go, those Brighton nights?
When we seduced the world and ourselves into giddy abandonment,
When we slouched on lampposts as we spun our yarns to midnight maidens,
before we ran off home to wade through the waste accumulated
and flop into temporary paralysis.
Where did they go, those Brighton weeks,
Spent on floors with our conscience strewn throughout unknown postcodes
and our conversation 100 miles per hour,
or else caped in stupored silence.
Where did they go, those warped days of Brightonia?
When we raced the sunset dressed in nothing but our hangovers and changing youth,
When we turned heads and chased tails endlessly in damp corridors and strange houses
and everywhere in between.
When we slumped on vast slopes and sang songs in frenzy,
and spent our last pennies repeatedly on a Good Time.
Where did it go, that skewed world Brightonia?
When we fucked with our very essence,
When we fought off tomorrow and dreamt about yesterday,
When we wallowed in the purgatory that we carved hand to mouth,
When we knew that it was us till the end and we waited for nobody
but our own souls to catch up
and let us know that none of it would ever last.
and let us know that none of it would ever last.
Still life with Brew
EARL SWEATSHIRT FOUND
"Ask Syd where we at. He'll tell you where we going. To free Earl from the fucking Samoans."
Fan me dead
Fan death is a widely held belief prevailing in South Korea that an electric fan left running overnight in a closed room can cause the death of those inside. Fans sold in Korea are equipped with a timer switch that turns them off after a set number of minutes, which users are frequently urged to set when going to sleep with a fan on.
Ἐρέω τε δηὖτε κοὐκ ἐρέω, καὶ μαίνομαι κοὐ μαίνομαι.
Catullus 85 wasva poem by the Roman poet Catullus for his mistress Lesbia.
Odi et Amo
odi et amo. quare id faciam, fortasse requiris?
Nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior.
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