H.E.J. Writer. 24. "You good for nothing, not-so-sweet talkin', Sylvia Plath lovin', piece of shit writer."Servabo Fidem.
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I have dreams every night where my hands are covered in blood. I’ll never get the sight out of my head. I’m so sorry
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Samuel Beckett, from The Complete Dramatic Works; “Endgame,”
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Some things you let go in order to live.
IG: griefmother
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Virginia Woolf, from a diary entry written c. October 1931 featured in “The Diaries of Virginia Woolf,”
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Franz Kafka, from a letter to Felice Bauer featured in “Letters to Felice,”
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MARY OLIVER
Thirst (2006);
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