“As a young child I wanted to be a writer because writers were rich and famous. They lounged around Singapore and Rangoon smoking opium in a yellow pongee silk suit. They sniffed cocaine in Mayfair and they penetrated forbidden swamps with a faithful native boy and lived in the native quarter of Tangier smoking hashish and languidly caressing a pet gazelle.” ― William S. Burroughs, The Adding Machine: Selected Essays
Vasculature of the human arm
OH LOOK, IT’S BACK ON MY DASH AGAIN. REBLOG.
LOOOOOL. what did i just watch..