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i always feel like i’m running out of time–that the dimensions of the world are inching closer, closing in, trapping in my slow-moving limbs–and i cure this illusion by attempting to think otherwise, begging for logic, waiting for release. but then it always comes down to this:

i am, quite literally, running out of time.


TANK BY Sweet Claire Clothing

photos by Calvin Bellas

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she’s morphine


she’s a lone sinister
dancing in the blur

the way a slight breeze creeps through hollows
shifting through alleys to the rhythm of its sorrows

“she’s morphine, queen of my vaccine.”


T-SHIRT DRESS by Truly Madly Deeply
GARTERS & THIGH HIGHS by American Apparel

photos by Rachel Lynch (I HATE BLONDE)

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attachment to the speed of time

in those moments when you feel most uncomfortable-

the awkward silences
the moments in between
your attachment to the speed of time

deflect from patching up segments of your life, following a deception that perhaps the human experience is better understood as one perfectly piece

and instead,

let yourself dissolve in the discomfort that is floating from one journey to another
sitting in between
soaking in nothing

because sometimes it is those gaps—times in between, moments unknown—that allow light, the most beautiful light, to shine through the spaces where it would otherwise be trapped if there were no breaks-  no gaps. let the discomfort breath and evolve itself. dissolve in its beauty. see the light. don’t understand or conclude. be uncomfortable because nothing beautiful ever came from comfort.


TIE UP SHORTS by Tunnel Vision
PLATFORM SHOE by Urban Outfitters

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