Sorcery Is Real 🙂

a needle in me would fix me like whether that’s a lobotomy, a drug, a piercing, or a tattoo, I don’t really care.

I miss knowing how to talk to him; the texting stuff was nice and all but I miss my friend more than I miss that

it feels like i've killed someone and i can't wash my hands free of the blood or whatever taylor meant with "you're still all over me like a wine stained dress i can't wear anymore"

— Sylvia Plath, "The Bell Jar"

has this been done yet

the moment you lose what you once had with someone is so heartbreaking, jesus christ

[sexting] no live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream. Hill House, not sane, stood by itself against its hills, holding darkness within; it had stood for eighty years and might stand for eighty more. within, walls continued upright, bricks met neatly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut; silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of Hill House, and whatever walked there, walked alone.

my five stages of grief are all messed up

denial > bargaining > depression > anger > acceptance

wanting to feel wanted is another recurring theme I’ve noticed on this album. she wants her lover to want her back and prioritize her (imgonnagetyouback, the alchemy, the albatross, so high school). she wants her exes to wonder about her (the black dog, chloe or sam or sophia or marcus, peter). as soon as she feels wanted again, she makes drastic decisions, whether it be leaving her current relationship or rekindling it (guilty as sin vs imgonnagetyouback). she’s at her lowest when she feels discarded or resented. she’d rather be experimented on and broken over and over again than left stranded (down bad). he runs because he loves her. she’ll bolt before he gets the chance to.

The Pomegranate Trees, William Saroyan