[kosmogrl]

[metamorphesque]

Rainer Maria Rilke, "Letters to a Young Poet" (translated by M. D. Herter Norton)

[bathroomcube]

how your 20s feel when you dont know what ur doing

[stainlessteelwaterbottle]

australians act like ur a massive freak if you dont want to spend every second of every day socialising or doing some sort of Activity

[hyperculture]

OH OKAY......

[hungwy]

holy shit all jobs are bad

[ew-kewpid]

The New Yorker, Valentines Day 1977

[fleurison-deactivated20190824]

Believe in the possibilities of things going right for you. A sudden shift in healing, abundance, awareness, love, and prosperity in every area of your life. It is possible. The potential is there. All things held with a positive vision and strong faith have a way of manifesting.

[kosmogrl]

[kosmogrl]

and it will be better 🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿

[kosmogrl]

learning not to return to places where I miss the past but see no future

[thenordroom]

A Stockholm apartment color-drenched in pink, green, and blue tones | subscribe for weekly home tours

[kosmogrl]

deciding one day that you want to build a life for yourself is so scary. like damn I really want to live… I’m new to this. where do I even begin

[art-of-idleness]

[liukaite]

chanel fw25 rtw

[flowerytale]

Celeste Ng, Little Fires Everywhere

[bonivers]

the whole world seems to revolve around marriage i’m bored

[beingharsh]

It is the phenomenon sometimes called alienation from self. In its advanced stages, we no longer answer the telephone, because someone might want something; that we could say no without drowning in self-reproach is an idea alien to this game. Every encounter demands too much, tears the nerves, drains the will, and the spectre of something as small as an unanswered letter arouses such disproportionate guilt that one's sanity becomes an object of speculation among one's acquaintances. To assign unanswered letters their proper weight, to free us from the expectations of others, to give us back to ourselves—there lies the great, the singular power of self-respect. Without it, one eventually discovers the final turn of the screw: one runs away to find oneself, and finds no one at home.

"On Self-Respect", Joan Didion