Marina Tsvetaeva, from a letter to Boris Pasternak featured in Letters, Summer 1926
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@umayla
Marina Tsvetaeva, from a letter to Boris Pasternak featured in Letters, Summer 1926
Hi again
i think ive drowned so deep that swimming is useless
cant recognize myself anymore. Minutes pass by as i stare at my hands. i count my veins one by one and suddenly loose myself in them. Recount recount recount. Over and over again. The disgust i feel about myself i just cant put it into words. And now i find myself typing helpless words, word by word i realize how logic and sense is nowhere to be found. After a deep breath shame and guilt catches up to me and i stop
take me away from me
i have nothing to be but everything to give that youll want from me
its not love neither attention ones truly looking for, its just to be seen without being beautiful and touched without being nacked
ive become the person i ran away from now we walk hand in hand
zor
giving love comes so easy but receiving it feels so wrong
do you think
I try not to
suddenly i realized i was breathing, i was alive
Are you single?
do these look like the posting habits of someone experiencing romance
funny how i turned from „wow there is just nothing you cant do“ to „you really need help“
her zaman yalnızlığa geri dönüyorum
eine kugel eis im becher und die nächste kugel in mein kopf bitte danke