I have a theory that nobody actually works in Ikea. Their ‘employees’ are people that have gotten lost inside, and over the years they simply assimilate into the store. They find themselves wearing clothes that match the logo, they forget the need to eat or sleep. They are Ikea. Ikea is them. We are all Ikea.
“A savage desire for strong emotions and sensations burns inside me: a rage against this soft-tinted, shallow, standardized and sterilized life, and a mad craving to smash something up, a department store, say, or a cathedral, or myself.”—Hermann Hesse, Steppenwolf (via larmoyante)
i’m that friend that has to walk behind the group when the path isn’t big enough. i’m that friend that gets cut off in the conversation. i’m that friend that gets left behind when i asked for them to wait for me. i’m that friend that doesn’t get invited to hang out alot. i’m that friend that if i want to go to the mall or some place with a friend i have to be the one to invite people to make sure i get included. i’ll always be that friend.
-you smell different when you’re awake -please help me (then smile as if nothing happened) -soon -you have lovely skin, I can’t wait to wear it -your hair tastes like strawberries -tonight….you. -he knows, don’t go home. -I always knew you would die in my arms -every time I poop I think of you -no one will ever believe you -yessssssssssssss -I killed mufasa -I bet you didn’t feel me lick your ear -mother told me it would be like this
“There should be more sincerity and heart in human relations, more silence and simplicity in our interactions. Be rude when you’re angry, laugh when something is funny, and answer when you’re asked.”—Anton Chekhov (via jappan)