“There Was So Much In You That Charmed Me That I Felt I Must Tell You Something About Yourself. I Thought

how long do i have to romanticise my life for before it actually gets romantic? just curious.

“I don’t know why the memories grow while I shrink. I don’t remember what I wanted to say. I don’t want to say what I remember.”

— Dunya Mikhail, from ‘Buzz’, The War Works Hard (trans. Elizabeth Winslow)

“If someday the moon calls you by your name don’t be surprised, because every night I tell her about you.”

— Shahrazad al-Khalij

when I was younger, I used to think true love was tumultuous and intense. but now, I feel like real love is gentle. passionate in a soft, sweet way. not fireworks and drama, but a love that’s like coming home, the breeze on a still summer day. a balm to the aches of the world.

what do you mean i can't spend all day listening to music and reading old conspiracy theories whilst ignoring any human interaction? bitch leave me alone tf

people are bad and all but when a stranger holds open a door for you and when a stranger picks up something you dropped and when a stranger smiles at you from across the street and when a stranger on a hike wishes you good morning and when a stranger hands you a rose and when a stranger lets you have their seat and when a stranger stops you to compliment your outfit and when a stranger gives you the 5 cents you’re missing and when a stranger jams their foot in the tram door so you can make it and when a stranger says bless you when you sneeze and when a stranger helps you with directions and when a stranger gets you something from the top shelf and when a stranger offers you a piece of watermelon in the park and when a stranger wishes you happy birthday because you’re holding a balloon.. maybe we are worth saving

I see many people saying “omg other people my age have kids and I am here with my life in shambles”; 

and I think: 

There is no one way to be a mushroom. Have you seen how fucked up they are? How god-ignorant and wild? Listen to the mushroom wisdom. 

Do whatever stirs your soul.

I want to run away. Just completely disappear, tell nobody, and become someone entirely new. I can dress in pleated short skirts and blazers, be coy and mysterious enough that everywhere I go people are intrigued and charmed by my mere existence, only to vanish as quickly as I arrived. I want to be known yet unknown. Leave behind my past so I have enough secrets to fuel a thousand rumours about who I am. Maybe that’s good material for being lonely, but is that not how all the best people live and die?

half of me finishes a book within 6-12 consecutive hours and the other half of me takes roughly six months.