Fire walk with me

A blog from the loneliest person on earth

[i-n-s-e-n-s-i-v-e-l]

[provst-deactivated20190401]

I am obsessed at nights with the idea of my own worthlessness, and if it were only to turn a light on to save my life I think I would not do it. These are the last footprints of a headache I suppose. Do you ever feel that? - like an old weed in a stream. What do you feel, lying in bed?

Virginia Woolf, from a letter to Vita Sackville-West dated 18 August 1929.  (via fleurstains)

[silenceformysoul]

Rogelio de Egusquiza - Tristan and Isolt, 1910 (detail)

[emergindo-me]

[mystic-woods]

The Dark Tower by middle earth illustrator John Howe

[closetweebs-deactivated20211031]

[ffeuerliebtmich-blog]

viα closetweebs: Tokyo Ghoul √A + Snow

[i-n-s-e-n-s-i-v-e-l]

[sad365]

[tattooga]

[glow-lovely]

Glow Blog

[thedailyvictorian]

THERE is a name — a sound — which, above all other music, vibrates upon my ear with a delicious, yet wild and solemn melody.

from “The Assignation,” 1834, by Edgar Allan Poe (via thedailyvictorian)

[visanepic]

[a-bstracto]

[1missedcallfrommom-blog]

You can’t breathe — so you write.

Mindy Nettifee (via dignitea)

[daanenkelhaar]

[psycho-creepy]

[theyearsofsolitude]

I dream too much, work too little.

Sylvia Plath, The Journals of Sylvia Plath. (via an-intelligible-world)