“I rolled onto my back again and made my voice casual “if you were going to kill yourself, how would you do it?” Cal seemed pleased. “I’ve often thought of that, I’d blow my brains out with a gun” I was disappointed. It was just like a man to do it with a gun.”
The bell Jar. Sylvia Plath.
our conversations don’t usually go as planned, you’re much nicer to me in my head, you care a lot more and listen to what i said
i’m in that moment when i don’t know if I should let it finally grow or if I should cut it again as I been doing 4 years straight
me if i had never cut my hair in 2020
“i’m not different, am I?”
i’m never gonna recover myself from watching Wes Anderson movies and i don’t want to either, it feels like a sharp knife where you’re reflecting yourself like a mirror but also like a warm hug that says “i understand the way you feel”.
a comment said “I started drinking coffee so my teeth weren’t perfectly white, cause you used to say that you liked white teeth, right?”
HEPL, IM CRYING.
“what did I think it was wrong? that made it sound as if nothing was really wrong, i only thought it was wrong.”
Sylvia Plath. The bell jar.
SUMMER DEPRESSION THERES SO MUCH TIME TO QUESTION MY LIFE
“i’m not a violent dog, i don’t know why i bite” had me SOBBING
i’m just a girl, i love art, books, writing, dancing and laying on the floor while I drink coffee and overthink my whole life.
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