i'd read books, visit museums, living in a cottage with big garden, chase butterflies, sunbathe under extreme sun, travel to places no one has heard of, get lost in cities, write, sit by the window and let the raindrops caress my face, bake fresh warm cookies and just enjoy the melancholia as it becomes a part of my life.
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“Oh how could I look at you and not fall in love? You look exactly like the knife I will die upon.”
“Lovesick” by Akshita Singh
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Does anyone else like making plans and then as soon as those plans come you get filled with overencompassing dread?
xoxo
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EVERYTIME I SEE A LOKIUS EDIT WITH THE "Nothings new" SOUND I LOSE A BIT OF MY SANITY AND WILL TO LIVE 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰
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burnt orange/brown dress with a braid? she is communicating to us so clearly—
evermore long pond studio sessions, coming this december 🧡😭
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Lights are supposed to be far away like the sun or the stars. But I have a candle in my hand and it’s burning. The wax melts in my skin but I am numb to heat. Occupied by the light that is too close to me. The bird of hope is sitting on my shoulder telling me that the candle will be here, burning always, just for me.
There are lights on the road. Again, too close. Red. Blue. Green. White. Yellow. It should be dark by now. But the streets are alive. Alive with the screeches of wheels that blend into my raging frown from the candle wax scars.The candle is gone but the bird still whispers—What’s yours will come back. The Earth is round. The Earth is full; and so am I. I say.
I am full. I am complete. Completely oblivious and yet I know so much.
I know of stars. I know of light. I know of hope. Hope sits on my shoulder, it’s weight is a burden I am carrying since I was five. I was five when I first knew of stars. The faraway lights that kept me looking for more. I still am but some lights hurt my eyes and Today I am tired of looking.
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