Everything In The Rain Becomes So Much Better? Like Yes Please I Want You To Take Me On A Date With The

Attacked.

“The danger with the eloquent poetess is that she might turn herself into a beautiful disaster.”

—

Kahlil Gibran, excerpts from Sand and Foam [ID in ALT]

One fine day my bestfriend asked me why I was so sad all the time and I just thought about how everything and nothing was making me sad. It wasn't a concrete experience I could pick out of my mind and say, "hey I'm sad about this", because honestly I don't know. I don't know what I'm sad about and I want to tell you I'm not okay but I don't know where to begin there is so much to be sad about and so less to be happy for. Sadness is a constant feeling, my sanctuary and happiness is like grains of sand it keeps slipping from my palms the more I try to hold on to it so I've stopped trying.

it’s like insane that an ancient writer knew the words i needed to hear a thousand years on and could see me through all that time but also. it’s not surprising in the least bc they felt as i felt and they sang as i sang and they did everything i’ve ever done there is no state of being which they have not already passed i am nothing new i am not alone and that is a great joy to know

the tips of my fingers grazing over infinite titles.

I'm such a sucker for tragedies, like yes please stomp all over my heart, go absolutely feral you have all the permit!

“Love never dies of a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness, errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds. It dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings, but never of a natural death.”

— Anais Nin

"Because I'm starting to wonder if this is what being in love is. Being okay with ripping yourself to shreds, so the other person can stay whole"

- Olive, the Love Hypothesis

Rainer Maria Rilke, Rilke’s Book of Hours