I have these detailed, unrealised fantasies about being feared. I aspire to being more adept at cruelty, but I am an unsuccessful psychopath — the empathy I dislike in myself is difficult to shake. The inside of my body is littered with cigarette burns, and my organs are rotting from drinking only Fracas comma Robert Piguet. It is better, I believe, to have jaws wide enough that you can fasten them tightly around almost anything — to out-monster the monster — and so I evolved them.
5:06 pm • 14 October 2014 • 3 notes
(Fuck intellect, really; this is everything I am hoping for, always.)
(Source: youth-lagoon, via 0-let-me-in-0)
2:50 pm • 29 September 2014 • 8,997 notes
Thogdin has just started to learn about popular hashtags.
9:45 am • 29 September 2014 • 1 note
Just rediscovered a book-proposal submitted for a competition last year: in it, I include a quote from a negative review of Hollywood Babylon as a quasi mission statement (“If a book such as this can be said to have charm, it lies in the fact that here is a book without one single redeeming merit”), and give it the working-title The Super-Class Suicide Manual.
I did not win the competition.
12:23 pm • 16 September 2014 • 1 note
A very talented friend of mine has made me a new and ‘official’ website:
(This Tumblr remains, though, for my idiot notes, and my favourite photographs of knives and breasts and leather gloves. So, you know — don’t unfollow just yet.)
9:41 am • 13 August 2014 • 4 notes
I have a long essay in the new Odiseo.
10:26 am • 25 July 2014
Wondering if I should put this pertinent Helmut Newton crop on the reverse of my business card.
(Source: thetastefuleye, via janetjackme)
8:32 am • 7 July 2014 • 58 notes
If I’ve already realised by the age of twenty-six that I’ll “never ride through Paris in a sports car/with the warm wind in [my] hair,” am I a) a defeatist, or b) ahead of schedule?
2:03 pm • 30 June 2014 • 2 notes