arvo-thoughts

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World of Tomorrow (2015) dir. Don Hertzfeldt

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Reblog if you're a writer who re-reads their own work for funsies.

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All’s fair in love and poetry… New album THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT. Out April 19 🤍

store.taylorswift.com

📷: Beth Garrabrant

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The Farewell (2019)

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learning lately that a lot of confidence is about owning up. like "yeah i'm a little addicted to my phone right now" or "yeah i'm not really over this person yet" or "yeah i still get pretty anxious in crowds" just saying anything at all but then following it up w "but i'm trying to get better" and being super nonchalant and unaffected. so powerful. you would literally be undefeatable in the face of even the most judgmental person. no one can judge you for things you already know about yourself and are trying to improve on. the trick is to know yourself from the inside out, to hold yourself accountable, and to actively improve every day. like that is literally the secret to never feeling like you're at the mercy of somebody else's judgment

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Just incase you needed this.

lived my whole life in guilt bc i thought i was responsible for people's feelings. newly realizing that other people are responsible for their feelings and reactions, even if they make it seem like i'm the problem. a lot of the time it really has to do w them and their own emotional regulation. i can't keep thinking i'm not allowed to have space bc of other people's insecurities. like i literally refuse to dim myself. other people are responsible for their feelings just as i'm responsible for mine.

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The Early Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1920–1923

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“Growing Around Grief”

Lois Tonkin, 1996

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You either cast the first stone, or throw the first brick

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I listened to this song on repeat for hours on hours on hours the day you died. Well not the exact day, but the day that someone told you died. Nothing is really real until someone tells you it is I guess.

I want to sit on the curb and smoke a cigarette with you again and listen to you tell me how I can't kill myself with these and I tell you the same. It always bothered me when we had this argument and you laughed and would tell me, "You're not allowed to die. I am." You made me so fucking mad. I told you that you couldn't, but here we fucking are.

I wonder if it would surprise you if you knew I have been standing as still as I possibly can just incase none of this is real. Just incase you want to come back, I've kept my apartment. Even though I have a house. I haven't changed my cell or my work number. I drive the same car. I wear the same perfumes, the same shirt, but the one you told me that looked hot I still haven't taken the tags off. Bills are killing me. I had to throw away a pair of my favorite black shorts the other day because there were too many holes in them.

I can still taste your sweet tooth.

Time is still going by and every single thing is trying to tell me that. From your Mom's faded letters to the wrinkles on my forehead. I can still hear your voice, but I want to hear you say it.