Basura, putas y perros.

There is an idea of a Patrick Bateman; some kind of abstraction. But there is no real me: only an entity, something illusory. And though I can hide my cold gaze, and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable… I simply am not there.

(Fuente: cyberqueer, vía inyoureyesblind)

— hace 2 días con 1950 notas