The legacies people leave behind in you.
My handwriting is the same style as the teacher’s who I had when I was nine. I’m now twenty one and he’s been dead eight years but my i’s still curve the same way as his.
I watched the last season of a TV show recently but I started it with my friend in high school. We haven’t spoken in four years.
I make lentil soup through the recipe my gran gave me.
I curl my hair the way my best friend showed me.
I learned to love books because my father loved them first.
How terrifying, how excruciatingly painful to acknowledge this. That I am a jigsaw puzzle of everyone I have briefly known and loved. I carry them on with me even if I don’t know it. How beautiful.
I don't need therapy I just need to be saved by an older wealthy woman with an I-could-fix-her complex who is inexplicably obsessed with me specifically
art will save you, being unreasonably passionate about something niche will save you, letting past sources of joy show you the way back to yourself will save you, earnestness over composure will save you, the natural world will save you, caring for something bigger than yourself will save you, daring to be seen will save you, kindness not as a whim but a principle will save you, appreciation as a practice will save you, daring to try something new will save you, grounding will save you, love will save you, one good nights sleep will save you
The little demons of grief came to live with me, in the space between the shadows and the floor.
I can't hear what they're telling me, even though I try.
Clementine Von Radics, from In A Dream You Saw A Way To Survive; “You are on the floor crying”
[Text ID: “And you have been / on the floor crying / for days. / And that is you / being brave. / That is you getting through it / as best you know how. / No one else can decide / What your tough looks like.”]
"I feel safe with you" as a compliment >>>>>>>>
Girls be so pretty what the fuck