ijustwanttoreadactually

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It can't be that normal to relate this badly to a fictional character, it just can't, besties. She's literally me and I'm literally her.

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Okay, but what about Will practically begging Annie to kiss him? 🫠

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Today, I feel as if a long and tight hug and a whisper of "you are enough" would solve a lot of my problems...

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Listening to this song is not enough, I need it injected in my veins! 👇🏻💘🤧

[ijustwanttoreadactually]

Isabel Allende, The House of the Spirits

[ijustwanttoreadactually]

Lines from Taylor Swift's songs that hit me too hard:

"They told me all of my cages were mental, so I got wasted like all my potential." - from this is me trying.

And

"I never had the courage of my convictions as long as danger is near, and it's just around the corner, darlin', 'cause it lives in me." - from peace.

And

"I've never been a natural, all I do is try, try, try." - from mirrorball.

Also,

"Before I learned civility, I used to scream ferociously." - from seven.

[ijustwanttoreadactually]

I probably shouldn't dive into fictional romantic stories as deeply as I do; it helps feeding and growing my unreachable standards. But at the same time, I have this empty space inside myself that I only want to fill with a love as intense as fire and as easy as breathing, like the ones I read about in books and see on TV.

I finished "Queen Charlotte" yesterday and although I can confirm I'm in love with it, I went looking for a Spotify playlist under the name of "Charlotte and George" and now my heart is aching. Will I ever be loved like that? Or, will I ever allow myself to be loved like that?

George's words to Charlotte can't seem to leave my mind. "I cannot breathe when you are not near. My heart calls your name."

Yeah, definitely crying when I get home later today.

[ijustwanttoreadactually]

“When I lobby for the inner life as a sacred site, as a touchstone, as a place of repair, as our integrity, as our private dialogue with our developing self, as our conscience and moral compass, as the joy of discovery, as deep connection with the known and unknown worlds of both experience and imagination, as the part of us we feel will not die, because in some sense it is passed on - as wisdom, as goodness, as an inter-generational touch across time, as the best of us, not least because it resists too much exposure to light, although it is light. The inner life is shy of too many visitors, but it is where we go to commune with ourselves, where we meet with the part of us that is both stillness and vibrant. A clear sound on a cold night. When I lobby for the inner life it is because it must be nurtured. Nurtured by nature and culture - the twin pillars of humanity here on earth; our connection with this planet, and with the civilisations we have created, their glories of art and architecture, of science and philosophy. We create worlds - inner worlds and outer worlds - and we need to live in both those worlds because we are born hybrids. […] We are contemplatives and doers. We imagine and we build. We get our hands dirty, yet we rise above it all, star-dreamers and shit-shovellers. Creatures of beauty, as well as ugliness and fear. Terrible failure. Impossible success.”

— Jeanette Winterson, 12 Bytes: How We Got Here. Where We Might Go Next