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THE GODFATHER (1972) dir. Francis Ford Coppola.

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I’m no villain but I think I could overlook my morals as Michael Corelone’s wife. Oh, he killed his sister’s abusive husband….? Okay slay. I bet he looked sexy doing it.

Oh, he arranged the death of the heads of the five Families? He’s an over achiever. 😸

Idk what Kay was on about. Like genuinely. He’s providing babeeee let it slide. That man could have all my babies.

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Sylvia Plath // Fyodor Dostoyevsky

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And when I was sick, the pain burnt a gaping hole inside of me. I thought this was the worst, but when I healed, the hole was left empty, aching more than I'd ever known, grasping for what it once held.

And I was consumed with guilt at my longing for pain.

At least when I was sick, I was something.

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take a glimpse into this portal see into deep space a motorcade of jackknives to kick you in the face

The jackals are a-running across the open grass hop-fucking around to kick you in the ass

A painter sees you in the street and with excellent prose asks what shade of red is pouring from your bloody nose

I want it for my painting he tells you with a grin what a vibrant shade the color of a sin

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— F. Scott Fitzgerald, from The Love of the Last Tycoon (via lunamonchtuna)

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Find meaning. Distinguish melancholy from sadness. Go out for a walk. It doesn't have to be a romantic walk in the park, spring at its most spectacular moment, flowers and smells and outstanding poetical imagery smoothly transferring you into another world. It doesn't have to be a walk during which you'll have multiple life epiphanies and discover meanings no other brain ever managed to encounter. Do not be afraid of spending quality time by yourself. Find meaning or don't find meaning but "steal" some time and give it freely and exclusively to your own self. Opt for privacy and solitude. That doesn't make you antisocial or cause you to reject the rest of the world. But you need to breathe. And you need to be.

Albert Camus, from Notebooks 1951-1959

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I cry for someone terribly, yet something in my heart silences my screams before they reach your ears.

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“Ah! I’m suffocating from this longing I have for you.”

— Albert Camus to Maria Casarès, Correspondance, February 6, 1950 [#174]

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The leaves have left the trees and the sky haunts, empty.

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Home | Fawn DeViney

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I believe I am going to read and write away all the romance I will ever receive.

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Femme Fatale

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I am an endless sea of the things I cannot figure out how to say.

Presently, I drown in these words.

Had someone come and try to save me, they would be pulled in just as deep, since whatever words I find are destined to be painfully and distortedly wrong.

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I know it is not your fault that I am alone. It is simply a melancholy thing, only a melancholy thing.

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I think these tears are slowly choking me. Had I not shed them, perhaps they would have escaped through my words and strangled the person I care for most.