Utopia Station
i’m losing face.
gaea’s blood. 

And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long.

— Sylvia Plath (via mylittlebookofquotes)

“I dream of a grave, deep and narrow, where we could clasp each other in our arms as with clamps, and I would hide my face in you and you would hide your face in me, and nobody would ever see us any more.” 
― Franz Kafka, The Castle

Solve Sundsbo

Stringent form
Blood of creativity
Rose of death