Me: [listens To A New Song]

     Only here’s what I really, really want someone to explain to me. What if one happens to be possessed of a heart that can’t be trusted—? What if the heart, for its own unfathomable reasons, leads one willfully and in a cloud of unspeakable radiance away from health, domesticity, civic responsibility and strong social connections and all the blandly-held common virtues and instead straight toward a beautiful flare of ruin, self-immolation, disaster? Is Kitsey right? If your deepest self is singing and coaxing you straight toward the bonfire, is it better to turn away? Stop your ears with wax? Ignore all the perverse glory your heart is screaming at you? Set yourself on the course that will lead you dutifully towards the norm, reasonable hours and regular medical check-ups, stable relationships and steady career advancement, the New York Times and brunch on Sunday, all with the promise of being somehow a better person? Or—like Boris—is it better to throw yourself head first and laughing into the holy rage calling your name?

— THE GOLDFINCH, Donna Tartt.

the fact that i’m not on a balcony in italy watching the sun set eating fresh fruit with my lover is offensive

being as i am an idiot, and having been one my whole life, i just wanna say that i find it very easy to do nothing, and go nowhere. i eat chocolate late at night in the dark. i stand in the garden also. and i’m often waiting for something to happen. and i’m stupid.

girls don’t want boys girls want pretty hardcover editions of literary classics

If you never saw the stars, candles were enough.

“If you want to be cruel say you forgive them. Forgive them for the pain, for the hurt, for the loss. For all the times they tried to break you into pieces. No one forgets forgiveness. It always leaves a bitter taste of ruin behind.”

— thoughts #172 | r.m

WE’VE ALL GOT BOTH LIGHT AND DARK INSIDE US insp.

I don’t have a train of thought I have seven trains on 4 tracks that narrowly avoid each other when the paths cross and all the conductors are screaming

Sometimes you feel like editing percabeth 2.0