It’s yours, it will always be yours @letizialannisteroftarth - Tumblr Blog

Ten years is insane (kintsugi kid and all). There was a part of me that thought we might never step on stage together again. So to get this chance to get in the studio and make this was a dream. Post hiatus we weren’t sure it would move the needle. So thank you for showing up. Thank you for going on this adventure with us (the second time is a charm). Listening to this one today and remembering the way it felt.

greysfields

have you eaten? (i love you). did you get enough sleep last night? (i love you). how do you feel today? (i love you). did you have a nice day? (i love you). will you come on a walk with me? (i love you). here's some fruit I cut up for you. (i love you) (i love you) (i love you).

jjudaslips

i miss jaime lannister (the good one in the books)

theglasschild

“THE WORLD IS increasingly designed to depress us. Happiness isn’t very good for the economy. If we were happy with what we had, why would we need more? How do you sell an anti-ageing moisturiser? You make someone worry about ageing. How do you get people to vote for a political party? You make them worry about immigration. How do you get them to buy insurance? By making them worry about everything. How do you get them to have plastic surgery? By highlighting their physical flaws. How do you get them to watch a TV show? By making them worry about missing out. How do you get them to buy a new smartphone? By making them feel like they are being left behind. To be calm becomes a kind of revolutionary act. To be happy with your own non-upgraded existence. To be comfortable with our messy, human selves, would not be good for business.”

— Matt Haig, Reasons to Stay Alive

tothedesert

when richard siken said “it keeps coming back to that: what do i do with these hands?” and when mitski said “i don't know what to do without you, i don't know where to put my hands” and when olivia gatwood said “what am i, if not yours? what do i do with my hands when they are just hands?” and when sylvia plath said “what did my fingers do before they held him? what did my heart do, with its love?”

anxietyproblem

constellatedlove

im proud of you for making it through all the things you thought you couldn’t. im proud of you for growing and becoming the person you are today. im proud of you for continuing to fight all your battles, especially the silent ones. im proud of you for getting through every day, even when it feels impossible. im proud of you, and you should be proud of yourself too because you are doing amazing.

finalgirlguy

Strolling aimlessly in a bookshop is selfcare

soracities

“her hand in mine, and in my chest a garden…” (saadi youssef)

Clarice Lispector, The Passion According to G.H.

Bright Star, dir. Jane Campion

Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

Ingeborg Bachmann, “Word for Word”

wistful-giselle

just thinking of how our meaning or purpose in life is merely to experience. eating an orange segment, hoping for snow, being in love, returning over and over to one painting, stepping outside for the full moon, submersion in water, having a favourite colour, knowing beauty, feeling alone, feeling connected, feeling longing… it is enough.

keatij

And to protect. To stand up for people.

egberts

sir these are my emotional support 120 tabs of unread fanfiction

hedgehog-moss

If you genuinely enjoy being alone, do you ever wonder if it is an inherent part of your character or if it stems from feeling inescapably lonely in the first place until you taught yourself to enjoy the peace and happiness one can find in solitude? what if the reason you now prefer & choose solitude at every turn is because you were a very lonely child, or teenager, not by your own choice, and that’s how you learnt to thrive and grow, so you no longer know if you can do that around people? There might also be an element of personal pride, an unconscious “you can’t fire me I quit” point when your brain decided to switch your feelings about solitude from distress to relief. I often find myself defending my love of being alone, to people who worry that I can’t possibly be happy to live in an isolated house in the woods; I insist that I do! I really do specifically enjoy the isolated factor and chose to live here because of it, but then I wonder how to differentiate an ingrained love of solitude from an acquired ability to thrive off unchosen loneliness, to learn from it and be nourished by it; to what extent it might be a form of contentment built on a bedrock of resignation.