Little Boys. Little boys with their heads filled up with dreams. When do they find out, Frances? When do they suddenly find out that there aint any magic? When does somebody push their face down on the sidewalk and say to them, ‘Hey little boy, it’s concrete. That’s what the world’s made out of, concrete.’ When do they find out that you can wish your life away?
  1. liquid-lightning reblogged this from luchadoreofliberty
  2. luchadoreofliberty reblogged this from cultureanomaly
  3. blackboxoffice reblogged this from cultureanomaly
  4. harmonioushavoc reblogged this from cultureanomaly
  5. cultureanomaly posted this