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A man holding his baby up to paintings and talking to him at an art gallery
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unfortunately for everybody i will keep doing whatever i want
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I really love touching. It doesn’t always have to be in a sexual way, it could be like you sitting next to me and our knees touching a little or you putting your hand on my mine, little things like that mean so much to me and I crave it, all the fucking time, it drives me insane.
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“I wanted to say something: “I’m sorry,” or perhaps “fuck you.” I wanted to say, “I let you in and you abused that position of trust.” But no no no. I wanted to say, “kiss me please please, we can forget everything.” Or maybe, maybe I just wanted to say, “I forgive you. You’re not sorry but I still forgive you.”
— S.Z. // Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #262
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“She, moonlike,”
— Alfred Lord Tennyson, from “Mechanophilus,” written c. October 1833 (via violentwavesofemotion)
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