creds to raveezus

So giving my insomnia last night the Matthew Walker treatment and thereby Doing Something Else for a short while, I cracked open a poetry book that's been on my pile for a few weeks, and was confronted by the most Aziraphale thing I never expected to see...

(You, by Carol Ann Duffy)

There is, apparently, no escape.

this turns me on

Anonymous (via neckkiss)

Sándor Weöres, from “The Gate of Teeth,” written c. September 1959 (via violentwavesofemotion)

— Marya Zaturenska, from The Collected Poems; “The Recall of Eurydice,”

— Virginia Woolf, in a letter to Quentin Bell, c. December 1933 (via dearestvita)

Things I Want On a Sunday Night Isa Gueye

https://www.instagram.com/lacooletchic/

she reminded me of Venus 

hold me

For you

I’ve fallen out of love… with love

I’ve fallen out of living with life

Sometimes I feel like there’s nothing left

Still I take a breath and carry on.

My song long since forgotten

For you, I move, I get out of bed

With feelings of dread

Stacked neatly

Over discretely laid plans

To wash my hands of it all.

-c.S.

By: ArgumentsFromWithin

Mental health matters, take care of yourself, never give up.