"Every introvert alive knows the exquisite pleasure of stepping from the clamor of a party into the bathroom and closing the door."
- Sophia Dembling - The Introvert’s Way: Living a Quiet Life in a Noisy World  (via white—orchid)

(Source: cumbered-cat, via leigh-ann)

"This is the kind of cold that makes your
teeth feel like they have skin.
This is a twenty lined story about
your beggar arms and your open hands.
This is about finding warmth in whiskey
when you’re not much of a drinker.
You can’t even hold your water let alone
your drink—or your tongue, or your heart.
One glass too much and you’re vomiting
sonnets into the phone, into the gutter.
Vomit something into me.
I don’t care if it’s last night’s Chinese
or last year’s tears.
The world isn’t in your books and maps.
And it isn’t out there.
It’s here.
It’s here.
Take my gloves for the cold.
They’re yours, okay?
Our hands have always been the same size"
- Salma.D - this is largely for you (via writingwillows)

(via beneath-a-lonely-place)



"If you fantasized about your funeral, I understand. I’ve been there before. If what’s more important is the music played, we are the same. With heads to the ground, as I’m lowered down, there will be a chorus. An overwhelming sound."

(via hollowsenses)

Method Act


These days I just try to keep to myself, well aware I’ve lost touch with everyone else. I understand that I’m fading. I understand that I’m fading away. I’d rather play dead than play catch up, because no one really cares all that much.

(via hollowsenses)