[fromdarzaitoleeza]

Anne Sexton, A Self-Portrait In Letters/ Anne Sexton, from a letter to Anne Clarke dated 23 March 1964

[i-dontwannalosecontrol]

The cruellest pain is the thought of what could have been.

26.08.2024

[dailykafka]

— July 28, 1914 / Franz Kafka diaries

[i-dontwannalosecontrol]

[i-dontwannalosecontrol]

[i-dontwannalosecontrol]

As a character in a play once said, "We're all of us sentenced to solitary confinement inside our own skins".

[i-dontwannalosecontrol]

Tujhe milna padega ab zamana hua!

[i-dontwannalosecontrol]

She loved tragedy so much that

her life became one.

[i-dontwannalosecontrol]

I'm selfish and I'm mean.

I want people to suffer. a darkness that hungers for the suffering of the ones who love me. I want them to suffer the guilt of not being there. desiring that those who care for me bear the weight of guilt for not being there in moments unseen. I deliberately prevent them from witnessing my lows. I intentionally keep them from comforting me. I want them to suffer the misery of being  ignorant.

A twisted desire, born from the yearning for a love withheld, an attention stolen in the silent theft of my past. To fulfill the share of love I never received. The amount of attention I was robbed of.

I now, mistreat the ones who provide me with their affection, in hopes of satisfying that ugly, wicked part of my brain, that keeps imprisoning my own heart, chaining my hands, caging my tongue from reaching out and asking for help. It ruins everything, leaving me to be accountable to my core.

a silent, calculated act for the havoc wreaked upon the relation that should be a source of solace.

[i-dontwannalosecontrol]

But what is Grief?

If not Love persevering.

[thebookquotes]

“Sunsets we always liked because they only happen once and go away. “But, Lena, that’s sad.” No, if the sunset stayed and we got bored, that would be a real sadness.”

— Ray Bradbury, Dandelion Wine (Green Town, #1)

[i-dontwannalosecontrol]

October 10. Nothing. Merely tired.

[thebookquotes]

“There are some things about myself I can’t explain to anyone. There are some things I don’t understand at all. I can’t tell what I think about things or what I’m after. I don’t know what my strengths are or what I’m supposed to do about them. But if I start thinking about these things in too much detail the whole thing gets scary. And if I get scared I can only think about myself. I become really self- centered, and without meaning to, I hurt people. So I’m not such a wonderful human being.”

— Haruki Murakami, The Elephant Vanishes

[i-dontwannalosecontrol]

Word.

[deviika]

Fernando Pessoa // Franz Kafka

[i-dontwannalosecontrol]

He was my light.

That was a long time ago.

He lives in my memory now. Buried.

Now, I don't fear the night at all. I live in it.

Your eyes adjust. Your heart settles in the numb. It's the natural State of things when your Sun burns out.

[i-dontwannalosecontrol]

Mahabharat was all fun and games until the game of dice.

[i-dontwannalosecontrol]

Would love to have shakuni as my therapist.

Bro would be unhinged.