they injected me with mental illness when i was a baby because they didn't like that i radiated moonlight and had stars inside my eyes. they were jealous of me.
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they injected me with mental illness when i was a baby because they didn't like that i radiated moonlight and had stars inside my eyes. they were jealous of me.
Juansen Dizon, i am the architect of my own destruction
the horrors persist but so do books, art, hot chocolate, winter nights, the moon, the sea, the stars, sunsets, literature, libraries, cats, flowers, stories, love and the wistful feeling you get when you finally return home
I hate having an internal monologue. Girl shut the fuck up.
And all of this at once.
The kindest thing that literature does is remind you that your little peculiar feelings have always existed. Someone, in some century, felt equally bewildered by love, bored by society, tired of pretending, and hungry for meaning.