I am Calvin. I am an artist and a writer.
I generally post film stills,
sometimes I break this pattern.
I’m left with the feeling that the only reason I love and I feel the way that I do is not for me but for someone else out there
I love to make the world better
because I know I’d be better off if I could just be selfish and never care about my actions
I’d be happier that way.
I guess happiness isn’t really about you, personal happiness is there to benefit the world
and if that happiness won’t benefit the greater good then I guess it’s not worth having.
There’s got to be a reason for why I’ve felt so much pain in my life. It was never for me.
This is the only way I can rationalize it.
If the only thing keeping a person decent is the expectation of divine reward then, brother, that person is a piece of shit.
— True Detective (via fuckyeahexistentialism)
Ray Davies of The Kinks
Alan Vega and Martin Rev from Suicide
Such a small man, such a gigantic voice.
My teenage love of James Dean has definitely been revisited the last few months.
I just paid $75 for a replica of a shirt he wore.
Well, my mom did. It was a birthday present.
A photograph of 19-year-old Beatrix Potter with her pet mouse Xarifa, circa 1885
my whole life is saved by emotions
by pockets that allow me to dream
like glass shards lining the highway
majestic and misplaced
but at least they manage to shine