She’s never where she is,” I said. “She’s only inside her head.
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I think about dying but I don’t want to die, not even close. In fact my problem is the complete opposite. I want to live, I want to escape. I feel trapped and bored and claustrophobic, theres so much to see and so much to do but I somehow still find myself doing nothing at all. I’m wasting every second, even now i’m writing this when I should be out there, I should be living. I’m still here in this metaphorical bubble of existence and I can’t quite figure out what the hell i’m doing or how to get out.
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likeafieldmouse:

Julião Sarmento - Stain - Bite - Shoulder (1996)
To live and know it is only for a moment…that is to know the soul.
-Anne Sexton, from A Self-Portrait in Letters  
fiebre:

by Ren-Hang
I wonder if you know yet that you’ll leave me. That you are a child playing with matches and I have a paper body. You will meet a girl with a softer voice and stronger arms and she will not have violent secrets or an affection for red wine or eyes that never stay dry. You will fall into her bed and I’ll go back to spending Friday nights with boys who never learn my last name. I have chased off every fool who has tried to sleep beside me. You think it’s romantic to fuck the girl who writes poems about you. You think I’ll understand your sadness because I live inside my own. But I will show up at your door at 2 am, wild-eyed and sleepless. and try and find some semblance of peace in your breastbone. and you will not let me in. You will tell me to go home.
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melisica:

(by Brooke DiDonato)
fohk:

Somewhere (2010)Sofia Coppola
So what? You failed your finals. You gained some weight. So what? You’re single again. You lost your job. So what? What now? You live. You try again. That’s what.
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