~Oh no. Don't smile. You'll kill me. I stop breathing when you smile.
He makes my stomach churn; makes me feel things I don’t want to - he afflicts me; like the symptoms of a disease invisible to the naked eye, his pictures envelope my mind and attach themselves to my insides, each giving rise to a different sensation typically unassociated with such pleasurable visuals. He makes me feel; in such obscure, bizarre manners that I find myself lost, unable to decipher the logic in my emotions, incapable of mapping the neural pathways that are causing the somewhat off-beat constrictions in my chest. How can such pretty pictures have such volatile results?
— speaktomewithwords. (via speaktomewithwords)


April 20thvia 4,001 notes