Abide by socks. Loose sense of morals.
Estrangula el oído.
And now fanart!
Reblogged from ravingrevolution  612 notes

Write to write. Write because you need to write. Write to settle the rage within you. Write with an internal purpose. Write about something or someone that means so much to you, that you don’t care what others think. By Nick Miller (via maxkirin)

Reblogged from z-the-fallen-angel  465 notes

I killed people too. Funny story of my own actually. I rose from the dead, and then after that I ripped people apart.
Okay, maybe it’s not that funny but you can sit there and listen to it anyway like we did with you. It’s weird at first because all there is is just darkness. It’s so dark. Doesn’t make a difference if your eyes are open or closed. What you think is that you’ve been buried alive…
Not ideal. Now that’s proper, proper panic, that, you know? You hit out at the lid of the coffin, even though you know there’s no way. But then it starts to give. You have to push your way through all the soil. Takes ages, doesn’t it. Takes so long.
Then suddenly, something’s different - you feel the wind on the tips of your fingers. And the rain. ‘Cause before that you’re not really sure where you are, but, but now you know, and you’re pushing through, and then all this stuff at once - the moon, and this incredible storm blowing. And the clock chiming midnight and you’re just standing there. Nobody else around and all of it pushing into me.
That feeling… it’s like what being born must be like. Except you’ve got context. Because, honestly, dead, everything up until then was fear. Everything. Even when I was alive. Just different levels of fear. And then it’s gone. And you’re like “Yeah, come on! Give it to me! Fill me up!”. But you know what, Gary? This hunger, this appetite, I could not wait to get started.