Work For Grace Jones Album: Bullet Proof Heart By Jean Paul Goude 1989

Grace Jones perform at Afropunk Festival located at Commodore Barry Park in New York City on August 21, 2015

I dont want to do anything bc I am embarrassed. Im embarrassed of everything. The way I look. The way I talk. The things I say. What my eyes are doing. The clothes im wearing. Even my thoughts are embarrassing. It doesnt matter whether or not people can tell what im thinking, they do and im embarrassed of it.

Honestly in all of these stories these poetic white men who somehow end up immortal get so bored and miserable because they just sit in their mansion all day doing whatever it is they need to do in order to sustain their immortality and then they just throw lavish parties and organize orgies or whatever and then they’re like “why am I sad I eat three course meals and have at least one orgy daily what MORE could I POSSIBLY need??”

Like???? Damn go for a walk. Do you even KNOW your neighbors? Get a dog and take it to the park. Set up an elaborate fish tank. Go skiing like you’ve been alive for 200 years and you’ve spent 180 of it in your house looking at paintings and drinking wine with other rich assholes no wonder ur life sucks my man.

Buy a canoe.

https://www.artstation.com/artist/robotpencil

Me anytime a sex scene takes place in a show/movie: This is literally the most unnecessary thing can we not

being mentally ill + suicidal at a young age (before 18) is. strange, because you grow up with this idea that one day you’ll finally snap, turn off, be brave enough to kill yourself, so you don’t really plan for the future. adulthood- further life, it isn’t for you, nor do you feel included within the future of it. it isn’t.. it isn’t part of your life plan.

and then before you know it you’re 18 and you’re an adult but you never thought you’d get this far and sure it’s great that you’re still alive you guess but also. you feel so alone + lost in a world you never expected or planned to be a part of.

requested by vicesandviirtues 

When the Emperor is asleep.

Reblog if you create infinite numbers of stories for your character in your head that never get written or rped