Wrapped in what may seem like normalcy, I carry a storm within. A whirlwind of intense emotions silently battles the composure I show. It's a poignant illustration of how the quietest exteriors can mask the fiercest storms.
I don't have any coping mechanism. Things hurt me, I sleep. I want to cry, I sleep. My head hurts, I want to sleep. My wardrobe is messy, I want to sleep. My coffee is bitter, I want to sleep. No one loves me, I will just sleep.
Hands are unbearably beautiful. They hold on to things, they let things go.
- Mary Reufle
11/08. Got drenched while coming back home
Never loved rain more than today.
Charles Bukowski, "hurry slowly," from Come On In!
Marguerite Duras, from The Easy Life
Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist
― Fyodor Dostoevsky, White Nights