I already said goodnight
I have to be okay
I can’t wake one of them up
It’ll just make me feel worse
Breathing
Breathing is important
One breath at a time
All I can do right now
Barely can think
This happens
I’ll be okay
I just have to remember
Not to wake one of them up
I hope
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“And so being young and dipped in folly, I fell in love with melancholy.”
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In college I had a physics professor who wrote the date and time in red marker on a sheet of white paper and then lit the paper on fire and placed it on a metallic mesh basket on the lab table where it burned to ashes. He asked us whether or not the information on the paper was destroyed and not recoverable, and of course we were wrong, because physics tells us that information is never lost, not even in a black hole, and that what is seemingly destroyed is, in fact, retrievable. In that burning paper the markings of ink on the page are preserved in the way the flame flickers and the smoke curls. Wildly distorted to the point of chaos, the information is nonetheless not dead. Nothing, really, dies. Nothing dies. Nothing dies.
Nicholas Rombes, The Absolution of Roberto Acestes Laing (via dinglehoppersaplenty)
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I bought it from the official merch table at the show in NY! The just started offering them at the end of last year :)
guys I can’t stop wearing my Fun Home beanie
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The little voices in my head are always there, whether or not I’m working on a novel. When you’re working on a novel, you try to keep part of your consciousness focused on it so you’ll hear them when they come.
Diana Gabaldon
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Colors so bright they nearly broke my heart.
Donna Tartt, The Secret History
(via 1ibertine)
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