I Am God’s Favourite Little Cosmic Joke. His Favourite Suffering Soldier. His Sacrificial Lamb. His

Mary Oliver, from a poem titled "August," featured in White Pine: Poems & Prose Poems

[sexting] no live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream. Hill House, not sane, stood by itself against its hills, holding darkness within; it had stood for eighty years and might stand for eighty more. within, walls continued upright, bricks met neatly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut; silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of Hill House, and whatever walked there, walked alone.

A stupid, desperate boy who wallows in self-pity, blaming his friends for leaving him. I know you, [...], though you may not know yourself. You left them. And you'd do it again.

So go, [...] run home, or starve in the Blight. It doesn't matter to me, because you don't matter. Just spare me the misery of your company.

Communication would be easy for him if you’re the woman he actually wanted.

as quiet as the death of a flower

oh it's so over

lmao

meu deus eu!!

creating pomegranatears was probably the biggest mistake of my life in recent years, wtf lmao

you can go back to the past but no one will be waiting for you there

@robertzombie/right where you left me - taylor swift/unknown/unknown/unknown/stoned at the nail salon - lorde/@firstfullmoon/changes - cam/langston hughes/unknown/unknown/right where you left me - taylor swift/@nobodysflower