Stargazer-forever - Stargazer-forever

does anyone wanna hold hands until we feel a little braver

Anaïs Nin, in a diary entry dated 27 February 1929, featured in The Early Diary of Anaïs Nin: Vol. IV, 1927-1931

Do Angels Exist? A Google Search a Week off Antipsychotics, Dante Émile

I've seen this before, but it's been years and it just came across my Twitter in its dying days. The words are from a favorite author of mine, Maggie Stiefvater, and they are the words I most need to hear when it comes to dealing with chronic pain and illness. I didn't need this the first time I saw it, six years ago. I need it now. Maybe you do, too.

I wish writing stained you the way art does: fingertips gray with charcoal, bright paint splattered against a face, wet clay drying on skin. To be looked at and to be thought of an artist. 

Sometimes I look at these hands and imagine ink dripping down my nails, my palms, my wrists. Onto the floor. Black blood and the type of visual beauty that doesn’t exist yet, and maybe never will.

“Millions of people have decided not to be sensitive. They have grown thick skins around themselves just to avoid being hurt by anybody. But it is at great cost. Nobody can hurt them, but nobody can make them happy either.”

— Unknown

— fatima aamer bilal; coffin heart? bury me.

The best boy