Tennessee Williams Play

withered, once-beautiful matriarch: my, it sure is hot tonight in… the south.
smoulderingly handsome, reckless heir to the family estate: *leans on a doorframe* hot- yes, just like the heat of my repressed homosexuality and barely concealed rage.

carga-de-agua:

Ezio Anichini 

(Italian, 1886–1948)

for Divina Commedia.

anarchy-of-thought:

Laurence W. Chaves, The Confessions of an Opium Eater.

And Lot’s wife, of course, was told not to look back where all those people and their homes had been. But she did look back, and I love her for that, because it was so human.
     So she was turned into a pillar of salt. So it goes.

Kurt Vonnegut, from Slaughterhouse-Five

mydarktv:

THE TRIAL // Aesthetics