“Lord Byron Gets Up At Two. I Get Up, Quite Contrary To My Usual Custom … At 12. After Breakfast

“Growing Around Grief”

Lois Tonkin, 1996

there is so much love in friendship, people forget that

Don’t give up on the person you’re becoming

deciding i was pretty was the best thing that i ever did

one day i was just like

fuck this im pretty

and i was

academia is 50% crying, 20% research, and 30% coming up with funny titles for every paper that you write

Last week, I learned that the English language has more euphemisms for death than any other language. I learned that the ancient Greeks had no word for the colour blue and that the Hawain alphabet has only twelve letters. I spent last week hollowing out a little place in my heart and filling it with worry. What does that say about us? Do we really go out of our way to avoid death like that? How did the Greeks describe the sea? Are twelve letters really enough? Does every language have a word for love? Every language should have a word for love. And compassion. And gentleness. And figs and snow and that soft sensitive part on the inside of one’s arm. We should have words for everything so that we don’t feel alone. We need very very very specific words for all of the different kinds of sad and even more specific words for the kinds of happy. What if we were able to talk about everything? I want to tell you how I feel and I want to be precise. Sometimes ‘good’ just isn’t enough and few understand what I mean when I say that I feel ’like lightning.’

me @ me: no offence but literally what the fuck are you doing

“Eventually soulmates meet, for they have the same hiding place.”

— Robert Brault (via existential-celestial)