Knuckle-dying grip on the door handle
It has been four years since I’ve last posted an entry on this page. Four years ago, I moved back home from Spain due to the pandemic. I was scared and excited to be back, but truthfully, I was heartbroken during the entire 2020 year, and I think I still am. My prior entries consisted of poems and ramblings over a boy who didn’t reciprocate my feelings for him. Fast-forward to the beginning of…
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Emily Dickinson, from a letter to Sarah Tuckerman (October 1885)
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art galleries should be open 24hrs like what if I can’t sleep and wanna stare at a painting
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Anyone else not cut out for all this
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