jacobaaronschroeder:

Everything I’ve ever let go of has claw marks on it
Hand burnt text on silk velvet
42″ x 24″
2016

1 year ago • 72,742 notes

childmagazine:

“Everything touches me—I see too much, I hear too much, everything demands too much of me.”

— Clarice Lispector II Why This World: A Biography of Clarice Lispector
(via 4a0000)

mentalhealth:

remember that you are the love of your own fucking life

liebesfraulein:

“Very often I don’t feel like I’m there, or here, or anywhere.”

— Mark Strand, from an interview taken by Adam Fitzgerald

intimatum:

“I could not stop wasting time. It was crazy. I wanted to do something with my life, but instead I went to sleep, or sung in the shower, or sat and stared at the wall. I couldn’t even tell you about anything that I saw. I didn’t talk to anybody. The cicadas kept dying outside, and as I dreamed, my mouth grew thick and venomous with silence.”

Yiwei Chai, The Jacaranda Years

pngianne:

Hope it gets better

aristotlemencloza:

Grief is just love with no place to go.

– unknown // Art piece by Ikenaga Yasunari

1 year ago • 75,873 notes

body5000:

i like how space doesn’t care about me. it’s impossible to disappoint the sun

cybergirlfriend-deactivated2022:

i want to be myself unconditionally and be loved for just that - but that does not exist in this lifetime. i wish i was softer and loved more tenderly, i wish i felt the sun the same way that i used to. i wish i felt the lightness that i hear people talk about. i don’t want to feel this constant weight and the shadows all around me, happiness is such an unattainable grey area and all i have ever wanted out of this lifetime is to be loved in the softest form.

feral-ballad:

Yves Olade, from Bloodsport; “When rome falls”

queengreendown:

It’s almost as if nobody wants to admit that they might not be prepared to do the work it takes to love somebody. And it can be laborious. To be intimate with someone who is flawed (which is the standard) requires us to expose our own flaws. We don’t talk about the heavy responsibility of that. We don’t talk about how we’re too lazy or too cowardly sometimes. We instead accuse love of being elusive. It isn’t. It is omnipresent. It asks us to be better people. And sometimes we flat out refuse.

akindplace:

Peopleiloved