“How strange it is. We have these deep terrible lingering fears about ourselves and the people we love. Yet we walk around, talk to people, eat and drink. We manage to function. The feelings are deep and real. Shouldn’t they paralyze us? How is it we can survive them, at least for a little while? We drive a car, we teach a class. How is it no one sees how deeply afraid we were, last night, this morning? Is it something we all hide from each other, by mutual consent? Or do we share the same secret without knowing it? Wear the same disguise?”
— White Noise (Don DeLillo)
don’t underestimate the strength I derive from being close to you
letters to milena
Vincent Van Gogh, Almond Blossom, 1890. Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam.
Does anyone need someone to read the first chapter of their WIP/ book and receive honest feedback?
feeling like a broken parle g biscuit sitting at the bottom of cup of chai rn
Water says to the dirty, “Come here.”
The dirty one says, “But I am so ashamed.”
Water says, “How will you be made clean without me?”
- Mawlānā Rūmī
Have you ever just cried because you’re you?
NGC 6960, Witch’s Broom
“Maybe someday we will be two people meeting again for the first time.”
— Unknown
In search of my Destiny!! Loves to Read !!🧚♀️🧜♀️🧙♀️ n Believes in Magic🦋👑💫
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