Last night I dreamt that we decided to give it another shot. We held hands and you kissed the top of head. It all felt so real. I wish it was real. I so desperately wish it was real.
YOU ARE THE REASON
One Nice Bug Per Day

Love Begins
Cosimo Galluzzi

Product Placement
Xuebing Du

Andulka

pixel skylines
ojovivo

★
dirt enthusiast
Peter Solarz
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
noise dept.
$LAYYYTER

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RMH
Today's Document
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@thoughtsinfar
Last night I dreamt that we decided to give it another shot. We held hands and you kissed the top of head. It all felt so real. I wish it was real. I so desperately wish it was real.
Is it crazy for me to still love you?
After all this time, after all the promises you’ve broken, if there was any chance of us getting a fresh new start, I would grab it in a heartbeat.
I still think everything happens for a reason. I still wish that somewhere down the road, maybe three years from now, we’ll meet again as better people. Maybe then we’ll be together for good.
“i should have known better than to fall in love with you. you told me about your heart. told me it was cold, relentless, broken. but i just smiled at you and told you i could fix it. now everything is over and i’m the only one who needs fixing.”
— e.s. // cold, cold heart.
the hardest thing i had to do this year was not to remember you as the person who loved me in ways no one else ever had before but to remember you as the person who left me broken in ways i didn’t think i could break.
it doesn’t matter how you loved me, it matters how you left me.
me right now, feeling like shit again
Them: You need to open up and communicate more
Me: *opens up and communicates more*
Them: *proceeds to get offended and mad anyway*
Anis Mojgani, In the Pockets of Small Gods
Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet
Clarice Lispector, tr. by Johnny Lorenz, Um Sopro de Vida
[A white fortune cookie paper with black text on the front and an icon of a bee. It reads: Someone new is coming into your life to the benefit of you both.]
may sarton, journal of a solitude