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I want to live, but I don't see the point in it. The happy moments are incredibly brief. Meanwhile, the all-consuming sadness, disappointment, emptiness, fear, seems almost constant.
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I want to write a novel about silence. The things people don't say.
Virginia Woolf, The Voyage Out
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September 1933
The Diary of Anais Nin 1931-1934
[volume 1]
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Trista Mateer, from "Aphrodite Made Me Do It," originally published in 2024
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tomorrow I’ll be lighter, and that’s all that matters.
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I know bad people exist because I exist and I am an unlovable person who aches with a desire to be alone and misunderstood because that’s all I’ve ever known and that’s all I will ever know.
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Good Monster, Diannely Antigua
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I want to walk in the snow and not leave a footprint
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I don’t lie
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“I’m too exhausted to explain my soul to someone again.”
— T. // ten word story #38 (via logicaldreamer)
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Made to love, but not to be loved; made to understand, but not to be understood; always the poet, never the poetry.
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I’m gonna rip my heart out if my chest and give it to him wrapped in a box
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