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virginia woolf's 1931 new years resolutions : "to have none. not to be tied. to be free & kindly with myself. sometimes to read, sometimes not to read. to go out, yes—but stay at home in spite of being asked. as for clothes, i think to buy good ones."
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"Everything that needs to be said has
already been said. But, since no one was
listening, everything must be said again."
- André Gide (1869 -1951)
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what are you waiting for? someone to grant you permission? the perfect and permanent emotion? a shooting star to magic away every problem you have or ever have had? alright, wait away then. but no one is going to live your life for you while you wait to become someone else
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when the lyrics you've been mishearing are more clever than what's actually in the song

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“I’m still learning to love the parts of me that no one claps for.”
— Rudy Francisco
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—Andrea Gibson, "Good Light," Lord of the Butterflies
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One of the most dangerous things in the world is not being able to say no to people because you don't want to upset them or dissapoint them. This will completely ruin your life in every way possible, at work, in your private life, your sex life and your friendships. It's a way of removing your own consent in your own decisions and go against your wishes, it is always a crime against yourself. Let yourself have a say. Upsetting people is better than traumatizing yourself.
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not normie enough to fit in but not fringe enough to lean into being a freak, worst of both worlds, pure liminality, just the weird coworker, and unrelatable classmate. and your mutual
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touch-starvation needs to be written with emphasis on the starving part. you are hungry to be touched. so hungry that even the very taste of it makes you nauseous. it has been long since anything has ever touched you, ever fed you - that your body has grown more used to that gnawing emptiness more than anything else. it's better for you to be held, to eat but it makes you sick to try. you know
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if anything else happens to me i’m not enduring it. somebody else do that
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from bright-eyed and bushy-tailed to political fugitives on the run
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I love my solitude but I was meant to be a lover
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