I Consume Too Much Caffeine, Don’t Sleep Enough And Don’t Read Enough.

To be human.

The coolness of hate turning warm under a tender touch.

Salty tears watering a dried up husk, soft hands soothing aching eyes.

Heart held devotion and tired bitter lies.

Life so fleeting, as swift as a bird. Moments that ground us to roots of this earth.

To be human is run fast and fall, but never to give up and to always laugh at that dizzying gall.

If I had wings I'd learn to swim, for this life is a cliffegde and I won't jump on a whim.

Richard Papen, while freezing in a fucking mandolin boutique during the rigid winter of Vermont: California dreamin'... (California... dreamin'...) on such a winter's day...

kalopsia

(n.) the delusion of things being more beautiful than they really are

anarchism and god complex

oh how I keep thinking of how tartt would write me if she ever did

(it's never happening)

when Charles Bukowski wrote— “ i often carry things to read / so that i will not have to look at / the people. ” i felt that.

Been thinking about another William Faulkner quote lately:

“Read, read, read. Read everything — trash, classics, good and bad, and see how they do it. Just like a carpenter who works as an apprentice and studies the master. Read! You’ll absorb it.

Then write. If it’s good, you’ll find out. If it’s not, throw it out of the window.”

A lot of my writing is about to be thrown out the window.

cant wait to start feeling normal again I think to myself knowing that i have not once felt normal not at all my whole life not ever

*girl on the brink of self destruction* i miss academia

foaming at the mouth at the realization that the climax of The Secret History started with Henry "kidnapping" Camilla like the Trojan War started because of Paris "kidnapping" Helen