Night driving at Bimblebox.
Freeman Hardy & Willis Acid ~ Squarepusher/AFX


Images from Poetic Nights - September 2014

tuesdays are sometimes these days

“In spite of language, in spite of intelligence and intuition and sympathy, one can never really communicate anything to anybody. The essential substance of every thought and feeling remains incommunicable, locked up in the impenetrable strong-room of the individual soul and body. Our life is a sentence of perpetual solitary confinement.”
— Aldous Huxley (via petrichour)

(via fuckyeahexistentialism)


Tricorn Centre, Portsmouth, UK, 1965

(Owen Luder Partnership)

"something like light, but not"

eno • hyde :: lilac

roadside blur


"Death created time to grow the things that it would kill."

True Detective

Early Warning System

line :: direction