no, i don't want a fucking bemo.

hä, schon april. alles so schön diesmal. in meiner welt jedenfalls, der rest schreit. wie schade.

we found this old björk-cd on the street and now we spend all our time at the studio listening to that record, getting black hand from charcoal

drawings and proclaim how easy life could be.and at the end of the day i always wonder if it really could?

all we do is getting high, high, high.

persian poets describe the eye lashes as arrows of love and compare great love with eternal drunkenness.

aha.

ui, toll.

 

.... and you crawled out of the sea, straight into my arms, straight into my arms. 

♥

in limbo

vietnam 2015/16