I Had My Chance, I Missed Them, Or Blatantly Turned Away; Every Single One. I Had Many Chances. Now,

Bro mad he didn't get a cupcake.

Who tf are you? Imposter

I'm you, but better.

Life is too short to keep it professional in the workplace, amp up that Workplace Whimsy folks!

Someone keep my rear accountable and tell me to just read this damn book already lol

I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.

— Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles

a while back I had a dream that people would put their otp (gay) underwater, like on a jpeg, and put text on it saying "the writers might have made you straight but the fish know" and it was so vivid I made my own, it was this one specifically in my dream:

Love my girlie anne <3

Anne Sexton, from a letter featured in Anne Sexton; A Self-Portrait In Letters

There's certainly nothing like playing the harmonica at work because my boss sucks at managing a business and I'm basically being paid to do exactly that. :D

And read fanfic, apparently. The things I've been able to do at work because this place absolutely sucks, has been astronomical.

As a joke, once, I claimed I was a slut, an absolute whore, for poetry - well, maybe it's not entirely a joke - and you said, "If only I were poetry," - as per joking goes. But, oh, god you are poetry. The rawest kind of poetry. The kind that takes only special glasses to be able to read. You are art in its barest form - like the many interpretations of Lucifer's fall from Heaven. Your very being is the poetry I'd learn; if only to carve into my bones.

For your sake and mine, I hope this version of you - the one I hum soothing lullabies to at night - is merely just one that pays no fee to live on in my subconscious. I'm afraid I cannot repeat this. Im afraid I must. I'm afraid I might learn you were never real.

Cries because anything mint or mint related sends me into sensory overload and assaults my nose and taste buds from a mile away (cant even use the toothpaste lol)

( ; ´ᴗ ‿ ᴗ`)

Franz Kafka, from a letter to Felice Bauer written in 1913, featured in Letters To Felice