Songs of the week

so this week I wanted to post slow songs that we all love to hear, so I hope you enjoy.


I just love this song sooo much I can't help but share. It's so romantic in a different way. In a lazy but just as exciting way, and in a way every girl won't mind falling in love with.

This next song is just beautiful. there's this strange sound to it but never the less it's amazing. 

This song is knows by most but such a classic. this is what a real artist is!!!!!

this next song my friends, is ART!

last but not least, this song is really good too. one of my favorites acutely. I gotta admit tho, I thought the music video might be different. 

The ones that sneak up

Well sometimes you think that your too good for a boy/girl. it's not that they're not good looking or anything, or that their weird, maybe there is just something that turns you off. like say, that person's personality or just something. but after a while you give that person a chance, you start to talk to them even more and things just happen. maybe your like "huh, well I guess i'll tap that" and then the person is tired of trying with you and they just leave.... and out of no where your depressed and just feel awful as if you liked that person for a while and now your broken hearted. those people are the once we call the SNEAKY ass wholes! their the worst once, because, your hurt by a person that you thought you didn't care about at all! and your just like "grrrr WTF when did this happen?" and when they act one of the reasons you hate them for, say being a douch then shit gets real! your all like "who the hell do you think you are?" then before you know it, your the one playing the chasing game. 

  

heartbreak quotes

"you broke me" -Asres

"there are a certain type of sad we're attracted to" -this person

“Once you had put the pieces back together, even though you may look intact, you were never quite the same as you'd been before the fall.”

“I won't ever leave you, even though you're always leaving me.” 

“Perhaps this is what the stories meant when they called somebody heartsick. Your heart and your stomach and your whole insides felt empty and hollow and aching.” 

“Gentle reader, may you never feel what I then felt! May your eyes never shed such stormy, scalding, heart-wrung tears as poured from mine. May you never appeal to Heaven in prayers so hopeless and so agised as in that hour left my lips: for never may you, like me, dread to be the instrument of evil to what you wholly love.” 

“Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.” 

"you don't love me because, I love you" -Asres

“Don't cry when the sun is gone, because the tears won't let you see the stars.” 

“Disappointment has a name, it's heartbreak” 

“Sometimes the only way the good Lord can get into some hearts is to break them.” 

“I was crying a little for the boy I had wanted him to be and the boy he hadn’t turned out to be.” 

"you can not want to love"

“Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong! - I have as much soul as you, - and full as much heart! And if God had gifted me with some beauty and much wealth, I should have made it as hard for you to leave me, as it is now for me to leave you!” 


“It is because I think so much of warm and sensitive hearts, that I would spare them from being wounded.” 

"I'm heartbroken not because a man broke it, but because I was fighting a war not to love more then I am loved." - Asres

"give me one reason to stay here, and i'll turn back right around."

“Give your heart to the wild once, because when they Do break your heart, you had so much fun you don't feel it." -Asres

Madonna...Girl Gone Wild

so I should start with saying that I never liked Madonna! yes i can hear you gasp, there was time when she was the it thing, when being on tour with her was the shit, and when SHE was the shit but now....she's old. and i'm not saying that she's not capable anymore, in the contrary, but you see when an old person tries to be young then that's ugly. that's when I start to lose interest. she just seems like she has NO personality any more and just weird looking. but the whole point it not for me to vent but to talk about her new music video, Girl Gone wild. she has done this a million times already, the fake kiss (some might call it teasing) but to be honest, we've been teased enough! and the leather costumes, and the illusions. but I gotta say I LOVE this music video. it's so...(lost for words here) I think I like this better because she's not in it the most. it's mainly focused on those pretty pretty dancers. god their Beautiful! I would agree that it's a little too much at times but I really loved the choreography for the dancers. and now I see why people compare Gaga to her. but enough of me, here's the video. 

I do apologize for the low quality of this Video but this was the only one I could find. but here are some pictures also.

  

LAZY BIG BOYS

i'll save you from the sea and take you to the moon
you just promise to stay with me


Love me in may as you loved me in december
and i'll scream by fear


you lie to me 
and I buy every word


called me queen's fool
and then lusted after me to my shame


want me when I want you
let's not play little games


you see, I don't write about men
usually they disgust me 


your a lazy little thing, I cant feel but dead
you drag me every where you look


and I just follow because there is no one else   

Songs of the week

SOOO I hope you guys are liking the songs I put up, and please leave some comments!


first song is this new artist I discovered, I gotta say he's pretty good!

next songs is old but it's soooo romantic, the lyrics, the story behind is, and just everything. hope it brings some memories back!

this third song goes wayyyyyyy back but you know you love it!

we all see haters on every corner.

well this is just how I feel right now, so here's the last song.

Marilyn Monroe Pictures

New and rare picture of my love just hit the block, so if you wanted to see them, here they are.

HOWL

This poem is just everything I live for. I wish there were people that wrote like this still!


I

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by
madness, starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn
looking for an angry fix,
angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly
connection to the starry dynamo in the machin-
ery of night,
who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat
up smoking in the supernatural darkness of
cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities
contemplating jazz,
who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and
saw Mohammedan angels staggering on tene-
ment roofs illuminated,
who passed through universities with radiant cool eyes
hallucinating Arkansas and Blake-light tragedy
among the scholars of war,
who were expelled from the academies for crazy &
publishing obscene odes on the windows of the
skull,
who cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear, burn-
ing their money in wastebaskets and listening
to the Terror through the wall,
who got busted in their pubic beards returning through
Laredo with a belt of marijuana for New York,
who ate fire in paint hotels or drank turpentine in
Paradise Alley, death, or purgatoried their
torsos night after night
with dreams, with drugs, with waking nightmares, al-
cohol and cock and endless balls,
incomparable blind; streets of shuddering cloud and
lightning in the mind leaping toward poles of
Canada & Paterson, illuminating all the mo-
tionless world of Time between,
Peyote solidities of halls, backyard green tree cemetery
dawns, wine drunkenness over the rooftops,
storefront boroughs of teahead joyride neon
blinking traffic light, sun and moon and tree
vibrations in the roaring winter dusks of Brook-
lyn, ashcan rantings and kind king light of mind,
who chained themselves to subways for the endless
ride from Battery to holy Bronx on benzedrine
until the noise of wheels and children brought
them down shuddering mouth-wracked and
battered bleak of brain all drained of brilliance
in the drear light of Zoo,
who sank all night in submarine light of Bickford's
floated out and sat through the stale beer after
noon in desolate Fugazzi's, listening to the crack
of doom on the hydrogen jukebox,
who talked continuously seventy hours from park to
pad to bar to Bellevue to museum to the Brook-
lyn Bridge,
lost battalion of platonic conversationalists jumping
down the stoops off fire escapes off windowsills
off Empire State out of the moon,
yacketayakking screaming vomiting whispering facts
and memories and anecdotes and eyeball kicks
and shocks of hospitals and jails and wars,
whole intellects disgorged in total recall for seven days
and nights with brilliant eyes, meat for the
Synagogue cast on the pavement,
who vanished into nowhere Zen New Jersey leaving a
trail of ambiguous picture postcards of Atlantic
City Hall,
suffering Eastern sweats and Tangerian bone-grind-
ings and migraines of China under junk-with-
drawal in Newark's bleak furnished room,
who wandered around and around at midnight in the
railroad yard wondering where to go, and went,
leaving no broken hearts,
who lit cigarettes in boxcars boxcars boxcars racketing
through snow toward lonesome farms in grand-
father night,
who studied Plotinus Poe St. John of the Cross telep-
athy and bop kabbalah because the cosmos in-
stinctively vibrated at their feet in Kansas,
who loned it through the streets of Idaho seeking vis-
ionary indian angels who were visionary indian
angels,
who thought they were only mad when Baltimore
gleamed in supernatural ecstasy,
who jumped in limousines with the Chinaman of Okla-
homa on the impulse of winter midnight street
light smalltown rain,
who lounged hungry and lonesome through Houston
seeking jazz or sex or soup, and followed the
brilliant Spaniard to converse about America
and Eternity, a hopeless task, and so took ship
to Africa,
who disappeared into the volcanoes of Mexico leaving
behind nothing but the shadow of dungarees
and the lava and ash of poetry scattered in fire
place Chicago,
who reappeared on the West Coast investigating the
F.B.I. in beards and shorts with big pacifist
eyes sexy in their dark skin passing out incom-
prehensible leaflets,
who burned cigarette holes in their arms protesting
the narcotic tobacco haze of Capitalism,
who distributed Supercommunist pamphlets in Union
Square weeping and undressing while the sirens
of Los Alamos wailed them down, and wailed
down Wall, and the Staten Island ferry also
wailed,
who broke down crying in white gymnasiums naked
and trembling before the machinery of other
skeletons,
who bit detectives in the neck and shrieked with delight
in policecars for committing no crime but their
own wild cooking pederasty and intoxication,
who howled on their knees in the subway and were
dragged off the roof waving genitals and manu-
scripts,
who let themselves be fucked in the ass by saintly
motorcyclists, and screamed with joy,
who blew and were blown by those human seraphim,
the sailors, caresses of Atlantic and Caribbean
love,
who balled in the morning in the evenings in rose
gardens and the grass of public parks and
cemeteries scattering their semen freely to
whomever come who may,
who hiccuped endlessly trying to giggle but wound up
with a sob behind a partition in a Turkish Bath
when the blond & naked angel came to pierce
them with a sword,
who lost their loveboys to the three old shrews of fate
the one eyed shrew of the heterosexual dollar
the one eyed shrew that winks out of the womb
and the one eyed shrew that does nothing but
sit on her ass and snip the intellectual golden
threads of the craftsman's loom,
who copulated ecstatic and insatiate with a bottle of
beer a sweetheart a package of cigarettes a can-
dle and fell off the bed, and continued along
the floor and down the hall and ended fainting
on the wall with a vision of ultimate cunt and
come eluding the last gyzym of consciousness,
who sweetened the snatches of a million girls trembling
in the sunset, and were red eyed in the morning
but prepared to sweeten the snatch of the sun
rise, flashing buttocks under barns and naked
in the lake,
who went out whoring through Colorado in myriad
stolen night-cars, N.C., secret hero of these
poems, cocksman and Adonis of Denver--joy
to the memory of his innumerable lays of girls
in empty lots & diner backyards, moviehouses'
rickety rows, on mountaintops in caves or with
gaunt waitresses in familiar roadside lonely pet-
ticoat upliftings & especially secret gas-station
solipsisms of johns, & hometown alleys too,
who faded out in vast sordid movies, were shifted in
dreams, woke on a sudden Manhattan, and
picked themselves up out of basements hung
over with heartless Tokay and horrors of Third
Avenue iron dreams & stumbled to unemploy-
ment offices,
who walked all night with their shoes full of blood on
the snowbank docks waiting for a door in the
East River to open to a room full of steamheat
and opium,
who created great suicidal dramas on the apartment
cliff-banks of the Hudson under the wartime
blue floodlight of the moon & their heads shall
be crowned with laurel in oblivion,
who ate the lamb stew of the imagination or digested
the crab at the muddy bottom of the rivers of
Bowery,
who wept at the romance of the streets with their
pushcarts full of onions and bad music,
who sat in boxes breathing in the darkness under the
bridge, and rose up to build harpsichords in
their lofts,
who coughed on the sixth floor of Harlem crowned
with flame under the tubercular sky surrounded
by orange crates of theology,
who scribbled all night rocking and rolling over lofty
incantations which in the yellow morning were
stanzas of gibberish,
who cooked rotten animals lung heart feet tail borsht
& tortillas dreaming of the pure vegetable
kingdom,
who plunged themselves under meat trucks looking for
an egg,
who threw their watches off the roof to cast their ballot
for Eternity outside of Time, & alarm clocks
fell on their heads every day for the next decade,
who cut their wrists three times successively unsuccess-
fully, gave up and were forced to open antique
stores where they thought they were growing
old and cried,
who were burned alive in their innocent flannel suits
on Madison Avenue amid blasts of leaden verse
& the tanked-up clatter of the iron regiments
of fashion & the nitroglycerine shrieks of the
fairies of advertising & the mustard gas of sinis-
ter intelligent editors, or were run down by the
drunken taxicabs of Absolute Reality,
who jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge this actually hap-
pened and walked away unknown and forgotten
into the ghostly daze of Chinatown soup alley
ways & firetrucks, not even one free beer,
who sang out of their windows in despair, fell out of
the subway window, jumped in the filthy Pas-
saic, leaped on negroes, cried all over the street,
danced on broken wineglasses barefoot smashed
phonograph records of nostalgic European
1930s German jazz finished the whiskey and
threw up groaning into the bloody toilet, moans
in their ears and the blast of colossal steam
whistles,
who barreled down the highways of the past journeying
to each other's hotrod-Golgotha jail-solitude
watch or Birmingham jazz incarnation,
who drove crosscountry seventytwo hours to find out
if I had a vision or you had a vision or he had
a vision to find out Eternity,
who journeyed to Denver, who died in Denver, who
came back to Denver & waited in vain, who
watched over Denver & brooded & loned in
Denver and finally went away to find out the
Time, & now Denver is lonesome for her heroes,
who fell on their knees in hopeless cathedrals praying
for each other's salvation and light and breasts,
until the soul illuminated its hair for a second,
who crashed through their minds in jail waiting for
impossible criminals with golden heads and the
charm of reality in their hearts who sang sweet
blues to Alcatraz,
who retired to Mexico to cultivate a habit, or Rocky
Mount to tender Buddha or Tangiers to boys
or Southern Pacific to the black locomotive or
Harvard to Narcissus to Woodlawn to the
daisychain or grave,
who demanded sanity trials accusing the radio of hyp
notism & were left with their insanity & their
hands & a hung jury,
who threw potato salad at CCNY lecturers on Dadaism
and subsequently presented themselves on the
granite steps of the madhouse with shaven heads
and harlequin speech of suicide, demanding in-
stantaneous lobotomy,
and who were given instead the concrete void of insulin
Metrazol electricity hydrotherapy psycho-
therapy occupational therapy pingpong &
amnesia,
who in humorless protest overturned only one symbolic
pingpong table, resting briefly in catatonia,
returning years later truly bald except for a wig of
blood, and tears and fingers, to the visible mad
man doom of the wards of the madtowns of the
East,
Pilgrim State's Rockland's and Greystone's foetid
halls, bickering with the echoes of the soul, rock-
ing and rolling in the midnight solitude-bench
dolmen-realms of love, dream of life a night-
mare, bodies turned to stone as heavy as the
moon,
with mother finally ******, and the last fantastic book
flung out of the tenement window, and the last
door closed at 4. A.M. and the last telephone
slammed at the wall in reply and the last fur-
nished room emptied down to the last piece of
mental furniture, a yellow paper rose twisted
on a wire hanger in the closet, and even that
imaginary, nothing but a hopeful little bit of
hallucination--
ah, Carl, while you are not safe I am not safe, and
now you're really in the total animal soup of
time--
and who therefore ran through the icy streets obsessed
with a sudden flash of the alchemy of the use
of the ellipse the catalog the meter & the vibrat-
ing plane,
who dreamt and made incarnate gaps in Time & Space
through images juxtaposed, and trapped the
archangel of the soul between 2 visual images
and joined the elemental verbs and set the noun
and dash of consciousness together jumping
with sensation of Pater Omnipotens Aeterna
Deus
to recreate the syntax and measure of poor human
prose and stand before you speechless and intel-
ligent and shaking with shame, rejected yet con-
fessing out the soul to conform to the rhythm
of thought in his naked and endless head,
the madman bum and angel beat in Time, unknown,
yet putting down here what might be left to say
in time come after death,
and rose reincarnate in the ghostly clothes of jazz in
the goldhorn shadow of the band and blew the
suffering of America's naked mind for love into
an eli eli lamma lamma sabacthani saxophone
cry that shivered the cities down to the last radio
with the absolute heart of the poem of life butchered
out of their own bodies good to eat a thousand
years.

II



What sphinx of cement and aluminum bashed open 
their skulls and ate up their brains and imagi- 
nation? 
Moloch! Solitude! Filth! Ugliness! Ashcans and unob 
tainable dollars! Children screaming under the 
stairways! Boys sobbing in armies! Old men 
weeping in the parks! 
Moloch! Moloch! Nightmare of Moloch! Moloch the 
loveless! Mental Moloch! Moloch the heavy 
judger of men! 
Moloch the incomprehensible prison! Moloch the 
crossbone soulless jailhouse and Congress of 
sorrows! Moloch whose buildings are judgment! 
Moloch the vast stone of war! Moloch the stun- 
ned governments! 
Moloch whose mind is pure machinery! Moloch whose 
blood is running money! Moloch whose fingers 
are ten armies! Moloch whose breast is a canni- 
bal dynamo! Moloch whose ear is a smoking 
tomb! 
Moloch whose eyes are a thousand blind windows! 
Moloch whose skyscrapers stand in the long 
streets like endless Jehovahs! Moloch whose fac- 
tories dream and croak in the fog! Moloch whose 
smokestacks and antennae crown the cities! 
Moloch whose love is endless oil and stone! Moloch 
whose soul is electricity and banks! Moloch 
whose poverty is the specter of genius! Moloch 
whose fate is a cloud of sexless hydrogen! 
Moloch whose name is the Mind! 
Moloch in whom I sit lonely! Moloch in whom I dream 
Angels! Crazy in Moloch! Cocksucker in 
Moloch! Lacklove and manless in Moloch! 
Moloch who entered my soul early! Moloch in whom 
I am a consciousness without a body! Moloch 
who frightened me out of my natural ecstasy! 
Moloch whom I abandon! Wake up in Moloch! 
Light streaming out of the sky! 
Moloch! Moloch! Robot apartments! invisible suburbs! 
skeleton treasuries! blind capitals! demonic 
industries! spectral nations! invincible mad 
houses! granite cocks! monstrous bombs! 
They broke their backs lifting Moloch to Heaven! Pave- 
ments, trees, radios, tons! lifting the city to 
Heaven which exists and is everywhere about 
us! 
Visions! omens! hallucinations! miracles! ecstasies! 
gone down the American river! 
Dreams! adorations! illuminations! religions! the whole 
boatload of sensitive bullshit! 
Breakthroughs! over the river! flips and crucifixions! 
gone down the flood! Highs! Epiphanies! De- 
spairs! Ten years' animal screams and suicides! 
Minds! New loves! Mad generation! down on 
the rocks of Time! 
Real holy laughter in the river! They saw it all! the 
wild eyes! the holy yells! They bade farewell! 
They jumped off the roof! to solitude! waving! 
carrying flowers! Down to the river! into the 
street! 




III

Carl Solomon! I'm with you in Rockland 
where you're madder than I am 
I'm with you in Rockland 
where you must feel very strange 
I'm with you in Rockland 
where you imitate the shade of my mother 
I'm with you in Rockland 
where you've murdered your twelve secretaries 
I'm with you in Rockland 
where you laugh at this invisible humor 
I'm with you in Rockland 
where we are great writers on the same dreadful 
typewriter 
I'm with you in Rockland 
where your condition has become serious and 
is reported on the radio 
I'm with you in Rockland 
where the faculties of the skull no longer admit 
the worms of the senses 
I'm with you in Rockland 
where you drink the tea of the breasts of the 
spinsters of Utica 
I'm with you in Rockland 
where you pun on the bodies of your nurses the 
harpies of the Bronx 
I'm with you in Rockland 
where you scream in a straightjacket that you're 
losing the game of the actual pingpong of the 
abyss 
I'm with you in Rockland 
where you bang on the catatonic piano the soul 
is innocent and immortal it should never die 
ungodly in an armed madhouse 
I'm with you in Rockland 
where fifty more shocks will never return your 
soul to its body again from its pilgrimage to a 
cross in the void 
I'm with you in Rockland 
where you accuse your doctors of insanity and 
plot the Hebrew socialist revolution against the 
fascist national Golgotha 
I'm with you in Rockland 
where you will split the heavens of Long Island 
and resurrect your living human Jesus from the 
superhuman tomb 
I'm with you in Rockland 
where there are twenty-five-thousand mad com- 
rades all together singing the final stanzas of the Internationale 
I'm with you in Rockland 
where we hug and kiss the United States under 
our bedsheets the United States that coughs all 
night and won't let us sleep 
I'm with you in Rockland 
where we wake up electrified out of the coma 
by our own souls' airplanes roaring over the 
roof they've come to drop angelic bombs the 
hospital illuminates itself imaginary walls col- 
lapse O skinny legions run outside O starry 
spangled shock of mercy the eternal war is 
here O victory forget your underwear we're 
free 
I'm with you in Rockland 
in my dreams you walk dripping from a sea- 
journey on the highway across America in tears 
to the door of my cottage in the Western night




-Howl byt Allen Ginsberg 
San Francisco 1955-56

HOWL

On The Road

So as you all know, on the road is one of my favorite books and also the title for this blog. But since we already talked about that I want to tell you the main reason that I brought this up again. UMMM oh you know the the movie is just coming out, that's it, no big deal or anything. before I talk about this here is the trailer....

soooo first of i's so happy they added one of my favorite quote ever..

"the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars."


one thing that I really like is that they added everything that was important from the book. Kristen Stewart looks amazing in this. the dancing part with Neil Casady a.k.a. Garret's character have great chemistry. the scene i'm most excited about is the when Kerouac takes the main character to the cotton fields because he had to follow this girl he liked. which also leads to one of my other favorite quote...


"A pain stabbed my heart, as it did every time I saw a girl I loved who was going the opposite direction in this too-big world."


I really really hope they add that part. other then that all I have to say is how excited I am to see the movie, I hope you are too.

SUPPORT KONY

why are we fighting something that's good for so many children? do we need to have oil to go into a country? do we need a treat to go fight? do we always need motive to be kind? what i don't understand is why people are fighting the whole campaign about Kony. if you believe the charity is shady then fine, don't donate any money. but why do you feel the need not to help? why do say not very nice words about people that are defenseless and invisible to the rest of the world? PLS PLS PLS I BEG YOU, SUPPORT THIS CAUSE! like i said it will only take a night out of your life.  

go on this website http://invisiblechildrenstore.myshopify.com/ and then go to do more, and then click on digital kit and all you need is there. 

JUDGE WELL

beautiful killings of fragile arms scream they are scared 
all the shouts of "again" "again"
they forget the voice from above
I promise, cross my heart, I'll make you
sister and brother, father or son
kill another one
the end is coming wake up the world
the hight of the mountains and the stars would fall
read the words of his name, read the book
judgment has seen my face
look at my sadness, my stress and my pain


#KONY

KONY 2012

My mother once told me that they are heart breaks every where. not just from a man, not just from friendships, not from some stupid drama but when man kind has turned so evil there is no turning back. When it feels as though it is a pain and wast of your time to help an other human being, when you feel like it's not your problem if an other human lives or dies. when it does not concern you enough to go help out others that are dying without having any say and any time to have in this world. My hearts breaks when I hear and see people support evil. but who cares about my heart when there are more things at hand. right now all I'm asking my few readers is that to BEG you, to PLEAD with you that you support a cause that could literarily save the lives of sooooo many. I understand people believe that the charity is a fake and I do agree that it is sketchy, but all i care about is for filling the promise that was made to the little boy that lost he's brother like so many. PLS PLS PLS help spread the word, help cover the states with posters of KONY ON 4/20/2012. it would only take a night of your whole life to save children and to be apart of history. this is something you will tell your children and grand children if successful.  I am NOT asking you to donate money or anything but to help spread the word. do ANYTHING you can, ANYWHERE, with WHOMEVER you can do it with. PLS be apart of something that could change things drastically and perhaps even the world!    

To Lead, you have to learn to follow

No matter how hard it is to watch people run in circles and know you can stop it, you have to learn to shut up. That doesn't mean your letting something important into ruin but it just means that it's not your chance to lead just yet. Power is a mystery, when you don't have it, it's all you want! you talk about how stupid your leaders lack of this and that. you can almost taste the  success if you were given the chance. it's almost blinding sometimes, so rich in your imagination. But no matter how you don't agree you have to swallow every envy and pride you have inside and follow. Because in order to be a great leader you have to learn to be a great follower also. or how else would things be done if every time you fight a leader that is trying to do a common good?  

songs of the week

I know I said I would do this every week but I wasn't able to do so but here it is.

First is Queen B. love everything about this song

next is Nicki Minaj. I don't exactly know how I feel about this song but here it is.

This on just speaks for it's self!

This is just art!! every word sooooo true!

This last song has been around for so long but I have to say, at least for me is the best version ever! just soooo much amazingness to it too!

Fashion week

so usually I don't do this but, I absolutely love all these dresses from fashion week! they are more then to DIE for!


so these are by Balmain, I normally don't like weird fashion but these are exquisite. even tho I wouldn't wear some of them, I would definitely wear the pants. 

so I LOVE LOVE LOVE Giorgio Armani, I love everything from their perfume to there EVERYTHING! so it wasn't must of a surprise I like this. I love everything from the way the models walk to the the simple but bold make up. the last one is my fave.

Alexander McQueen has always been a genius and he's stuff costs as much! tho I have no words for the hair, I beyond LOVE these dresses. they have a very late 1800 Vibe to it that just ohhh idk I just can't take my eyes off of it. the last one is just gorgeous!

 

I don't care what anyone says but these dresses are just straight up BEAUTIFUL like cloth orgasm!