The marks humans leave are often scars…
this is like one of those tumblr text posts that never happened except this happened
A long time ago I learned not to explain things to people. It misleads them into thinking they’re entitled to know everything I do.
Oh, what the hell… If something was going to happen, let it happen. It something wanted to happen, let it happen.
Everyone, at some point in their lives, wakes up in the middle of the night with the feeling that they are all alone in the world, and that nobody loves them now and that nobody will ever love them, and that they will never have a decent night’s sleep again and will spend their lives wandering blearily around a loveless landscape, hoping desperately that their circumstances will improve, but suspecting in their heart of hearts, that they will remain unloved forever. The best thing to do in these circumstances is to wake someone else up, so that they can feel this way, too.
You are a woman. Skin and bones, veins and nerves, hair and sweat. You are not made of metaphors. Not apologies, not excuses.
David Eagleman, “Metamorphosis”
I went to the Met today
L O L