Me When Red Rising Fanart

Franz Kafka, 1912

Nikolay Punin, from a diary entry featured in The Diaries of Nikolay Punin: 1904 - 1953

i fell between the intercrosses of our fingers weaving as our palms closed together and lost myself wherever that has gone, so please dont let go of me

i still bite my lips when i am stressed, and no habit of mine has ever died. i pick it up and i carry it around, another weight that weighs nothing on how i live only how im seen. my nails are always short and i still havent found my nail clippers, why cant i stop-not a question.

i still get excited when i hear my phone knowing its not you

what the fuck bro

had contractors come by and forgot i was wearing this shirt

the treasures of my life i prioritize as a pupil of a dead party god or dionysus, id love to live in nothing but sex, wine, parties, getting high, falling in love, writing nonsense stories and telling lies, fight for my own right for enjoyment, lose my mind and maybe find it tomorrow

i live in silence as a pupil of a living solitude god if theres even one at all

i suffer from addictions, it seems when something fascinates me it's all i can think about or do. i take too much pleasure in playing chess, and get too upset when i lose. i take too much time into my instruments, and lose myself in them in the ways i should not. and also as simple as coffee, i cannot go a day without a cup.

i suppose i am at least glad you fascinate me, and you allow me to let me be addicted. but god am i terrified for the withdrawals because i treat you like a drug.

i trace your scars, like stretch marks, like scratches

the very things you are insecure about i love, despite your doubt

and if love is an action id commit it like a crime to keep you

i trace your face like an outline, acting as if i wont forget it

i trace your sides like an act of desperation, acting as if i want more than what you give me

i trace your hands, and give you my right when it aches, knowing you prefer to hold that one

:(

god how i crave whatever the hell franz kafka had going on with melina