Sensationally seductive with every sentence.
Musings of a ruckus-maker.
*insert witty description with a dash of irony and pinch of insight here*
Two birds flitted about above the grey rooves, calling out “SUCKERS!” to the workers below. But the workers couldn’t hear, their ears buried in isolated song and dreams of the weekend.
Nothing less than the tingle, the spark and the rush. No settling.
[We rise.] What else can we do, we fucking rise.
Jon McGregor, from Even the Dogs (via the-final-sentence)
It’s in these quiet moments that we bind and divide.
A sea of cogs cloaked in black, trading in dreams for cash.
(Source: stmadri)
It was one of those days that challenged how much she loved challenges.
Her high ponytail flicked back and forth as she strode towards her dreams.
She ran and ran and ended up right back where she’d started again.



1