not being drunk is so awful
Alexander McQueen (via onlinecounsellingcollege)
With maddening hunger.
I’d write to the point of suffocation.
I’d write myself into nervous breakdowns,
Manuscripts spiralling out like tentacles into abysmal nothing.
And I’d write about you
a lot more
than I should.
Benedict Smith, I Wish I Wrote The Way I Thought (via adeana)
Nick Hornby, About a Boy (via larmoyante)
Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart (via whothefck)
All I’m trying to do.
She writes a lot. And although no one knows what she writes about, we know that it helps her. She also likes to pick flowers and send them to people that live in other places. And every morning, she has two or three cups of coffee.
Her fears get in the way of her being happy most of the time. Her scars are noticeable and we don’t say anything about them. She’s not unhappy all the time, though. Making her blush and smile is easier than you think. You just have to know what to say at the right time.
She changes a lot. her mind, her clothes, her hair. It’s never the same for more than a few months. Like a snake shedding its skin.
Some people love that about her, and some people hate it.
Carolyn Hall, 17 Thoughts for Single Women From A Divorcee (via silhouettesofspilledink)
A young man and a woman enjoy swimming in flooded St. Mark’s Square in Venice, Italy, Sunday, Nov. 11, 2012. I want this.
amazing. reblogging for the 50th time