We're all mad here.

"She did not need much, wanted very little. A kind word, sincerity, fresh air, clean water, a garden, kisses, books to read, sheltering arms, a cosy bed, and to love and be loved in return." ❤

[youbethehatterandillbethehare]

[youbethehatterandillbethehare]

[youbethehatterandillbethehare]

[youbethehatterandillbethehare]

[youbethehatterandillbethehare]

🖤

[youbethehatterandillbethehare]

Once upon a fucking time there was a fucking princess and she was fucking loved like she deserved and she was happy and appreciated and It amazing... And no one fucking believed any of it. Because it wasn't fucking real. She gave it all up for a daydream and nothing made any sense...

[thoughtkick]

“Nothing better than memories, and there is nothing worse than them.”

— Anton Chekhov

[youbethehatterandillbethehare]

It is never the weight of the thing.

It is the way it remembers for you.

A scrap of plastic,

bent at the corner,

dulled by time,

still knows where it has been.

Your body recognizes it

before your mind does.

The chest tightens.

The room tilts.

Suddenly you are not here.

You are then.

And the feeling comes in fast and cold,

a wave that does not ask permission,

only knocks you down

and leaves you breathing on the floor.

Nothing about it is large.

Except what it unlocks

[youbethehatterandillbethehare]

Silly Goose vibes 🪿

[perfectfeelings]

“The cost of not following your heart is spending the rest of your life wishing you had.”

— Unknown

[mournfulroses]

Jeanette Winterson, from Weight: The Myth of Atlas and Heracles, originally published in 2005

[youbethehatterandillbethehare]

Some memories don’t just resurface — they rise like ghosts, cold and uninvited, raking over your bones and stealing the breath from your chest.

It’s strange how something as simple as a sentence, a Facebook memory— a few fragile words, strung together like beads — can unravel you completely.

They bite through time, whisper through the hollow places, and wrap themselves around your bones like frost until you forget how to breathe.

Amazing, isn’t it, how the past can still find you — soft as smoke, sharp as winter — and remind you you’re still made of everything you’ve survived despite the best pieces of your soul you gave away.

[literaryvein]

L. V., excerpts from the epilogue

[missinyouiskillingme]

“We loved with a love that was more than love.”

— Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe

[remanence-of-love]

[spitblossoms]

[thoughtkick]

“There’s really no shortcut to forgetting someone. You just have to endure missing them everyday until you don’t anymore.”

— Unknown

[stay-close]

“Sometimes, all you can do is lie in bed, and hope to fall asleep before you fall apart.”

— William C. Hannan