Pół litra smutku i działka zamyślenia

Nic mi nie jest, dajcie mi spokój. Z głową w dłoniach tak siedzę i siedzę. Jakże im opowiem o tej długiej i splątanej drodze.

[kosmogrl]

learning not to return to places where I miss the past but see no future

[kosmogrl]

[kosmogrl]

and it will be better 🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿

[calware]

i really love this genre of image

[tougedreaming]

[sadclowncentral]

(grabs you by the shoulders) you have to make room for new experiences in your life. you have to go through the unpleasant work of leaving your comfort zone, even if just for a few minutes at a time. because if you don't, your brain will trick you into stagnation. you will start to believe that the world can barely fit you in it. but that's not true. it's the opposite way around. you can fit the whole word inside of you. your task is only this: to welcome it with open arms

[lustcannibalism]

ok I endured it. now what!!!!!!!!!

[lustcannibalism]

[moniquill]

[averagefairy]

y’all remember being 15? That was fucked up

[sailermoon]

I WISH IT HAD ALL BEEN DIFFERENT!!!!!

[sailermoon]

but then who would i be

[wordfather]

the only way out is through but fuuuuuuuuuck fuuuuucckkkk cant i like scooch past or something

[mrsterlingeverything]

I will do anything to be free

[longnuts]

Even escape?

[mrsterlingeverything]

I dont know. Can i do that

[mosfetransgender-deactivated202]

NEVER LET YOURSELF BE STOPPED BY WHAT IT WOULD HAVE BEEN LIKE IF YOU STARTED EARLIER!!!!! THE ONLY TIME WE HAVE IS NOW

[anditslove]

[kosmogrl]

[fairycosmos]

the nostalgia of living in your hometown as an adult can really make you sick. your childhood doesn’t exist anymore yet you can see it all around you all the time

[probuccalfat]

you can go back to the past but nobody’s there

[anxeious]

[ashstfu]

propaganda i am not falling for:

always moving on. some goodbyes need to rot a little. some griefs need to be held in the mouth like a stone.

beauty defined by algorithms. beauty exists in crow feet and smile lines

pretending to be chill. i’m not chill. i care deeply and inconveniently. i read into things. i write poems about eye contact

beige apartments with no soul. give me bookshelves and incense and loud art

sneaky links and unclear intentions. i want devotion. and also clarity

treating books as decor. read them. dog-ear them. argue with them in the margins