(Source: ellacalm)

"Be alone, that is the secret of invention; be alone, that is when ideas are born."

-Nikola Tesla

(via ohfairies)

(Source: dthelivingmartyr)

(Source: e-ndorphins)


You will
dig sharpened nails
into white and blue
clawing for something
that cannot be touched.

You will
find yourself concave
scraping things out,
burying others.

Stop normalizing this.
Stop trying to find beauty
in dying.

by Michelle K., Just Stop. (via michellekpoems)
"Darkness has now begun to stream down
like tears. Enchanted and fearful,
like a body ready at last to arrive
at its own flowering, I wait
by Kutti Revathi, from ”Greybird,” in Sambal Paravai, trans. N. Kalyan Raman, from Kavya Bharati: A Review of Indian Poetry (Issue No. 14)

(Source: literarymiscellany)

(Source: convolucion)

"Sometimes I feel like I’m not solid. I’m hollow. There’s nothing behind my eyes. I’m a negative of a person. All I want is blackness, blackness and silence."
by Sylvia Plath (via mirroir)

(Source: theburnthatkeepseverything)

(Source: lily-cats)

(Source: chebmoha)

"I am not a graceful person. I am not a Sunday morning or a Friday sunset. I am a Tuesday 2 AM, I am gunshots muffled by a few city blocks, I am a broken window during February. My bones crack on a nightly basis. I fall from elegance with a dull thud, and I apologize for my awkward sadness. I sometimes believe that I don’t belong around people, that I belong to all the leap days that didn’t happen. The way light and darkness mix under my skin has become a storm. You don’t see the lightning, but you hear the echoes."
by Anna Peters (via fleurlungs)

(Source: larmoyante)


Marine Vacth, in Jeune Et Jolie (2013) dir. by François Ozon

"Fuck literature."
by Ernest Hemingway, in a letter to Ezra Pound (via violentwavesofemotion)

(Source: )

"You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you."
by Ray Bradbury, Zen in the Art of Writing (via quotes-shape-us)
"Anything, anything would be better than this agony of mind, this creeping pain that gnaws and fumbles and caresses one and never hurts quite enough."
by Jean-Paul Sartre, No Exit (via mirroir)