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“I think I might always be in some kind of love with you.”
— F. Cabanes
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“Dead inside but trying to stay alive.”
— (via saveyourselfstayalive2)
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Kay Redfield Jamison, An Unquiet Mind: A Memoir of Moods and Madness
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Richey Edwards
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NOT EVERYTHING FEELS LIKE SOMETHING ELSE
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Our hands contain our humanness. Sometimes they give us away. They clasp a chair while we pretend not to be scared. They sweat from the palms while we beg our foreheads to stay dry. They also hold. They pray. They dance along the keys of a piano. They tickle. They dust themselves in flour. They shape bread. They scratch the back of a lover. We hide so much in this life, but I don’t know if it is possible to hide the way a hand can open and close itself out of care or loss or love.
Devin Kelly, from Ordinary Plots: "J. Estanislao Lopez's 'What the Fingers Do'"
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Hari Alluri, from “Ancestral Memory”, After Kwame Dawes
[ID: text which reads, “I, too, have been losing my gentleness since the first young wound.” end text. End ID.]
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boyflesher-deactivated20230106
im like if a dead body was alive
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PARKS AND RECREATION 7.04 – leslie and ron
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A cute goat sent you a message.