I’m a good person

sometimes outro eu

[estranhoconhecido]

[morepeachyogurt]

marlena by julie buntin

[shisasan]

April 26, 1931 Journals of Anais Nin 1927-1931  [volume 4]

[zape-bun]

[poetryofmanya]

[cirkinkadininutopyasi]

[eulesposting]

Sometimes the small pleasures hit different. A clean house, a hot drink, making something from scratch, sitting on the porch with a loved one. Little soul-feeding activities.

[missinyouiskillingme]

I used to build dreams about you.

F. Scott Fitzgerald

[theshellshack]

[preciousjewels]

“I waited too long for you. I will devour you, love you into flame,…”

— H.D., from Collected Poems: 1912-1944; “A Dead Priestess Speaks,” (via violentwavesofemotion)

[hamoodmood-deactivated20250309]

Should I kill myself or have a cup of coffee?

[entrecosmos]

“I think sometimes life is about embracing what hurts, because pain is one of the most vivid emotions we can feel. Pain reminds us that we are alive, and I’ll always appreciate that stinging reminder.”

Kandi Steiner, A Love Letter to Whiskey

[entrecosmos]

“Thinking back on it now, I loved the way it felt that night. My heart was broken — completely, utterly shattered — and I liked the way that pain felt. It reminded me I was alive, filled me with hope that what we had was real — even if it had technically never truly existed. ”

Kandi Steiner, A Love Letter to Whiskey

[entrecosmos]

“You affiliate love with fear.”

Kandi Steiner, A Love Letter to Whiskey

[entrecosmos]

“Stop acting like not wanting him makes you strong. There’s more courage in admitting you love someone and fighting for them than letting them go because it hurts less.”

Kandi Steiner, A Love Letter to Whiskey

[entrecosmos]

“It turned out I was water, he was whiskey, and I couldn’t dilute him — not now that I knew he loved me enough to let me. I needed to be stronger, to be ice the next time I melted with him.”

Kandi Steiner, A Love Letter to Whiskey

[entrecosmos]

I wrote page after page of absolutely nothing, but everything to me in that moment. Every word made me feel better and worse all at once, and so I chased one feeling and ran from the other, round and round until my fingers ached. I think I needed that first, true heartbreak to feel enough to write the way I did that night. Words don’t get written from a heart that’s never felt. They come from pain, from love, from unspeakable depths — and they were my only release.

Kandi Steiner, A Love Letter to Whiskey