Sufjan Stevens | Futile Devices

i pick at memories like scabs on juvenile knees

and i bleed when i could be change,

but i am both the bird and the tarnished cage.

i think some people are steel-toe boots and some of them are sidewalks;

some people live and learn the names of humans, of streets just to run away,

and some of them are cities forged and born to always stay.

and if life is a tree, i have to say, some days i want to leave,

but i think my birthmark is a footprint, and i'm bona fide concrete.

— concrete // melancholy galaxies (t.e.t.)

“You still crave lemonade, but the taste doesn’t satisfy you as much as it used to. You still crave summer, but sometimes you mean summer, five years ago.”

— Alida Nugent

There must be another life, she thought, sinking back into her chair, exasperated. Not in dreams; but here and now, in this room, with living people. She felt as if she were standing on the edge of a precipice with her hair blown back; she was about to grasp something that just evaded her. There must be another life, here and now, she repeated. This is too short, too broken. We know nothing, even about ourselves.

Virginia Woolf, the years

— Jay Vespertine (via letsbelonelytogetherr)

“He had forgotten how big things could feel, how crowded with life, how beautiful it could be to know the season, the month, the hour, to simply say, It is winter.”

- Leigh Bardugo, Hell Bent

lets all stop being suicidal and create life 2 where its good and everybody loves you

manwhore. bisexual. incest. eating disorder. poet. cheater. aristocrat. bipolar. celebrity. single dad of bastards. died in a war.

lord byron, you are my dream.

i pick at memories like scabs on juvenile knees

and i bleed when i could be change,

but i am both the bird and the tarnished cage.

i think some people are steel-toe boots and some of them are sidewalks;

some people live and learn the names of humans, of streets just to run away,

and some of them are cities forged and born to always stay.

and if life is a tree, i have to say, some days i want to leave,

but i think my birthmark is a footprint, and i'm bona fide concrete.

— concrete // melancholy galaxies (t.e.t.)

well guess who took a lot of money to destroy oneself