eatsbop

[eatsbop]

[eatsbop]

do-it-again august

[eatsbop]

It's what gives life flavor

MAYBE.

Hi dy

[eatsbop]

Are we yearning are we balling

Hi dy

[eatsbop]

Sorry for sounding miserable and depressed, its because I'm miserable and depressed

[eatsbop]

can I just be so real, I actually have a lot of hate in my heart and I am an angry little thing

[eatsbop]

Listen, if you try hard enough you can do things you normally do in a not normal way

[eatsbop]

Hi dy

[eatsbop]

HNNNNN but all the male uniforms of every school I've been are pretty much the same

[eatsbop]

Did something happen to Taehoon, why so many Taehoon notifs today

[eatsbop]

Hm i wonder why i feel so disconnected? *watches from afar* *watches from afar* *watches from afar* *watches from afar* *watches from afa

[eatsbop]

[eatsbop]

The older I get, the more I find that you can only live with beings who liberate you, who love you with an affection that is as light to bear as it is strong to feel. Life today is too hard, too bitter, too debilitating for us to suffer new bondages, new captivities from those whom we love. This is how I am your friend: I love your happiness, your freedom, your adventure, in a word - and I would like to be, for you, a companion you can be sure of, always.”

— Albert Camus, (to René Char, 1957) in "Camus-Char: Correspondence 1946-1959) (Gallimard, 2007) (via Alive on All Channels)

[eatsbop]

Mark Z. Danielewski, House of Leaves

[eatsbop]

“I’m always afraid others might talk about me. I’ve failed in everything. I didn’t dare think of being something; I didn’t even dream of thinking about being something, because even in my dreams - in my visionary state as a mere dreamer - I realized I was unfit for life. No feeling can lift my head from the pillow where I’ve let it sink in desperation, unable to deal with my body or even with the idea that I’m alive, or even with the abstract idea of life. I don’t speak the language of any reality, and I stagger among the things of life like a sick man who finally got up after being bedridden for months. Only in bed do I feel like part of normal life. It pleases me to get a fever, since it seems perfectly natural to my recumbent state. Like a flame in the wind I flutter and get dizzy. Only in the dead air of closed rooms do I breathe the normality of my life.”

— Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet

[eatsbop]

It didn’t kill me, but a part of me died that day.

[eatsbop]

hearts of darkness (1991) dir. eleanor coppola, george hickenlooper, fax bahr