“it’s starting to smell like pumpkin spice!”
“it’s starting to smell like scary movies!”
no.
it’s starting to smell like, the snow in the mountains was melting and bunny had been dead for several weeks before we came to realize the gravity of our situation.
Henry Winter is so husband coded (I need to be institutionalized)
Hits hard darlings
characters whose philosophy is “if i cannot be wanted, i will be needed and if i cannot be needed, let me be used until there’s nothing left of me.” thank you for everyone’s attention. falls off stage and dies
I want to be someone's muse, the object of someone's desires. I want to be something somebody thinks about all day. I want to be painted on a canvas by a painter, to be written in words by a poet. I want to be the inspiration for somebody's art.
Lacrimosa, 2020 | Nicola Samori Oil on onyx and Trani stone
Herakles, Euripides (tr. Tom Sleigh)
Damnation by Clara
depraved and withered. deprived and starved. they watch as i wallow in my despair in agony. they do not deny my suffering, simply ignoring it. the hatred, the tension. it’s all become too much for my tortured soul. wretched, corrupt, wicked. dark, evil, ornery. all my souls passions received in damnation.
reading books in Latin, coffee stained papers, piles of books on the desk, spilled ink, wine bottles with a candle stick in it, cherry red lips, a very chaotic mind of new stanzas and creative work. Grecian artwork and statues that crumbled over time. revlon lipsticks and dior blush.
― Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Idiot
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
“Please don’t expect me to always be good and kind and loving. There are times when I will be cold and thoughtless and hard to understand.”
- Sylvia Plath
Perhaps I romanticize this state of loneliness so much that it becomes too beautiful.
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