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May
8th
Fri
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"Who knows how to make love stay? Tell me this and I will tell you whether or not to kill yourself."

-Still Life With Woodpecker

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"Then I give you nothing. I keep the millions of me that make me, me. I keep my moments without thought of you because to think of you makes you strong (and I will make you weak). I keep and declare my right to give you nothing. Nothing. Nothing."

"Then I give you nothing. I keep the millions of me that make me, me. I keep my moments without thought of you because to think of you makes you strong (and I will make you weak). I keep and declare my right to give you nothing. Nothing. Nothing."

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Oct
1st
Wed
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You do this, you do. You take the things you love and tear them apart.
— Richard Siken (via endosymbiotic)
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chadsugg:

“Promise you won’t forget about me, ever.Not even when I’m a hundred.”
Above is a quote I stumbled upon,from an old Winnie The Pooh story.I don’t know why, but it immediately became one of my favorite lines I’ve ever heard.

chadsugg:

“Promise you won’t forget about me, ever.
Not even when I’m a hundred.”

Above is a quote I stumbled upon,
from an old Winnie The Pooh story.
I don’t know why, but it immediately became one of my favorite lines I’ve ever heard.

Sep
2nd
Tue
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Fuck it. You throw a dart at a map, we’ll go there and start new. Somewhere else in the world that’s not here. Somewhere where we haven’t said things to each other that we can’t unsay and done things which we can’t undo.

There we can say new things. We can do new things. And those new things we say and do will be more important than the old things. Let’s leave. Please. Leave with me.

Aug
26th
Tue
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Sickness is the means by which an organism frees itself of foreign matter; so one must just help it to be sick, to have its whole sickness and break out with it, for that is its progress
— Rainer Maria Rilke
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when packing your own lunch becomes an accepted art form.

when packing your own lunch becomes an accepted art form.

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Aug
19th
Tue
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We will bury her in a crowd of the lonliest people we can find.
We will help them dress in their Sunday best, wave their grief around like it’s some contest.
We will watch them weep themselves to death.
— Des Ark