Charles Bukowski, "assault," from What Matters Most is How Well You Walk through the Fire

are u ever sick w longing. and i don't just mean romantic longing. i mean longing for a place you barely get to see, longing for friends you no longer have, longing for feelings you might have left behind in your childhood, longing for creativity, longing for a rich and more expansive life, longing for less inhibition. longing for more passion. longing for ur life to be so incandescent w something it thaws all the frost in ur bones. are u ever so consumed w it it rends ur heart in two. do u understand me

this is not just "look out the window and sigh" longing. i'm talking you're at the grocery store and you're suddenly hit w a wave of grief bc you don't have it. you don't have whatever it is you ache so badly to have. you go about your everyday life and yet it throbs under your skin moment by moment, almost as though it has a life of its own. that's the kind of longing i mean.

writing job applications and thinking that perhaps I wasn't made for this world

Just make sure you're not doing that thing where you isolate yourself, and then convince yourself that you're so different from everyone else. Discomfort and fear can be a signal that you're on the right track.

edward hopper / jenny slate

cats would be so fucking upset if they understood they were missing out on the ability to lie verbally

gnight i love you (my future self my past self and my current self)

i am becoming more myself. do you know what i mean? doing anything at all, trying and failing and recognizing myself as an alive human being is all i need to do to grow into the woman i will be

read literature. be present. make love. make tea. write a poem. cry. watch a sappy movie that makes you want to throw things at it. paint your nails. cook something. call your best friend. learn an instrument. wonder. take a bath. go for a walk. lie down on the grass. listen to the entirety of ur favorite album from 2016. take pics of sunsets. ponder. shamelessly dance in your room. curl up on your bed. make endless wishes to the stars twinkling in the midnight sky. think about nothing. think about everything. think about things so hard that you barely remember what happened moments ago and why you’re feeling the way you do

Marie-Joseph Clavel - The lake of love - the weeping willow (ca. 1918)

i’m already living in a time loop it’s called being employed

Omen 👣 insta

don’t want to be a girl i want to be a single star in the night sky shining so bright all the way to lonely people who look up and hope to see a sign

parent-child dynamics are soooo crazy. i love you i resent you i can't stand you i adore you i pity you. and still watching your hair get a little more grey every time i see you makes my stomach feel weird

The question you should be asking yourself isn't "is it normal?" but "is it hurting anyone?" Because if it isn't, we shouldn't care how normal it is. That's not the important part