Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. IV: 1944-1947
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. IV: 1944-1947
fish
this is where we start.
I deserve to have a monstrous crashout. I deserve to roar into the sky until it cracks and growl until the ground shakes. I deserve to throw up a never ending supply of blood or preferably just ambiguous black liquid EVERYWHERE. I deserve to double over and scream and make other such incomprehensible noises as my body cracks and twists. I deserve this more than some feeble screaming. Come the fuck on
The palace smelled of stone and paint, of people and food and beeswax floor polish.
The garden smelled only of flowers and earth.
By Momoire
Wear your heart on your skin. x
seeking, yearning, reaching hands
December 4, 1912 Letters to Felice by Franz Kafka First published : 1973
I'm so tired of being tired
loved
Words just can't describe the emotions I feel when you greet me in my sleep. It crushes me, but I have the biggest smile on my face while it happens.
I crumpled like a ball of paper when I woke up, still smiling.
Daphne du Maurier, The Parasites