“You still crave lemonade, but the taste doesn’t satisfy you as much as it used to. You still crave summer, but sometimes you mean summer, five years ago.”
-Alida Nugent
I’ve been subject to a pretty drastic change, lately. Change, growth, time, perception, changing social connections—have all been on my mind. I feel both numb and overwhelmed, both excited and exhausted. Never before have I felt the presences of my past and my future pressing upon me this acutely—and yet never before have they appeared to me this hazy. I am not entirely sure what is going on, but there would be less point if I did. What are we even doing here? Life is interesting.
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Letters to Milena, Franz Kafka
Embrace, Peter Wever
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It is just a little exhausting sometimes to be subjected to the world.
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1. “The Spirit Is Too Blunt an Instrument,” Anne Stevenson
2. In the Vortex of Passion, Leonid Afremov
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“I wish I knew what to do with my life, what to do with my heart…I do nothing all day, boredom settles in, I look at the sky so I get to feel even smaller than I already feel and my mind keeps poisoning itself uselessly.”
-Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
People are so much.
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Quote, poet Dylan Thomas
Hammock, artist Peter Wever
On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous, poet Ocean Vuong
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The world is so much bigger than I could ever wonder it to be. I can’t handle it.
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Where does the performance end and you begin?
instagram | prints
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I want to be a tiny person and sit in a man’s breast pocket
And fall asleep while he walks in the woods
And eat crumbs in his pocket
I feel
Nostalgic
For a place that doesn’t exist
I want to sink into nothingness
And fall asleep
While smiling
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“The way to love someone is to lightly run your finger over that person’s soul until you find a crack - and then gently pour your love into that crack.”
— Keith Miller
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mental illness is like you will crave love but never feel comfortable around anyone ever. your welcome
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What a beautiful thing it is, to be understood.
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28 March 2020, 2:23am night
It started raining while I was brushing my teeth and I looked up at the ceiling and smiled
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I am unsure whether I am capable of truly falling in love. But what does it mean to “truly” fall in love, when love is but a glorified evolutionary mechanism? A means of making us fuck? Sometimes I wonder if my approach to love is too logical.
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A large cloud of which I am very fond.
We think of ourselves as looking up at the sky, but there is no up or down in space. When I lie on the earth and consider the sky, I can gaze downwards into it, into the infinite depths beneath me. Gravity is the only thing tethering me to the earth, preventing me from falling into it, endlessly.
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