Wednesday, June 30, 2010
as we all go soft, for a second.
When I think about you, flowers grow out of my grave.
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as we all go soft, for a second.
Every man is a peece of the Continent
Requiescat in pace; tell me all your thoughts on d...
Forgive me for the inundation
dissident European art
vibrations of life
It was never to be built.
Those lights we call stars
lepidoptery, in the time of vn
this thing looks like that thing
Architecturally (Ir)Relevant
she take my money
oiled up
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