Anaïs Nin, The Diary Of Anaïs Nin, 1931–1934

My therapist and psychiatrist right now be like

My Body is Rotting in the Forest by Guang Yang

from: the letters i will never send (isabella dorta) 

Odd Stone #2 by joctaviothomas on Flickr.

yeah no i’m completely normal about this ofc i am

As the ground right under me crumbles as if it wasn't there.

It's too much, my heart's crushed, i'm not alive.

I don't know who to call, alone.

I won't die.

My life has succumbed to hatred and death, alone

in the snow.

WHAT DO YOU SEE WHEN YOU LOOK INTO THE MIRROR?

I have to leave this song here, not my favorite but the lyrics are just too fitting.