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i don’t think people understand how much of life is grief. not just people dying, but losing the version of yourself you thought you’d become. grieving the city you had to leave. the friends you lost not in argument, but in silence. the summer that will never come back. the feeling that maybe you peaked at 12 when you were reading books under the covers and believing in forever

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save me coffee & pastry …. save me ..

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what a beautiful feeling it is to finally get over someone and realize that it was your adoration of them that made them so special. without that, they’re quite basic. just proof that the magic lives in you, not them.

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propaganda i am not falling for:

always moving on. some goodbyes need to rot a little. some griefs need to be held in the mouth like a stone.

beauty defined by algorithms. beauty exists in crow feet and smile lines

pretending to be chill. i’m not chill. i care deeply and inconveniently. i read into things. i write poems about eye contact

beige apartments with no soul. give me bookshelves and incense and loud art

sneaky links and unclear intentions. i want devotion. and also clarity

treating books as decor. read them. dog-ear them. argue with them in the margins

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“listen to your body” what if my body says do whatever you want all the time

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wanted it too badly award

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Calum for Unraveled Edit Magazine

📸: Sara Regan

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saw someone post this lmaooo

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AND IM SEEING SOMEONE!! And it’s still new but he checks so many boxes and he’s popped back up from my past and I was so unsure about him but he’s breaking his back proving me wrong to make sure I know and god IM SWOONING

I know I like…disappeared for years but I have a super cool job I love now with a super duper fantastic team and coworkers who have become best friends and I moved out and I live alone in my sweet little dream apartment and I’ve been rereading old posts of mine and it just makes me so much more full of love that I’m exactly where I’ve always wanted to be