“I speak as if at the edge of words, and I have the feeling of being at the edge of my skin, but the bottom of my sorrow remains unreachable.”
- Anne, patient of Julia Kristeva
Posted: 1 week ago
I am stunned by this ring, it sort of resembles a galaxy of open flesh.
(Source: moonandtrees, via middecember)
“Did it matter then, she asked herself, walking towards Bond Street, did it matter that she must inevitably cease completely? All this must go on without her; did she resent it; or did it not become consoling to believe that death ended absolutely?”
― Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway
“A great hope fell
You heard no noise
The ruin was within.”
― Emily Dickinson
I am eternally, devastatingly romantic, and I thought people would see it because ‘romantic’ doesn’t mean ‘sugary.’ It’s dark and tormented — the furor of passion, the despair of an idealism that you can’t attain.
Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one’s head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace.
