Love is my insides all messed up.
— Ernest Hemingway (via girlinlondon)
(Source: fleurishes, via girlinlondon)
I do not fear death. I had been dead for billions and billions of years before I was born, and had not suffered the slightest inconvenience from it.
— Mark Twain (via 24ribs)
I am sitting here writing this. I am sitting here writing this because I feel so damn terrible for not having mustered up the energy to sit and write anything. And all I ever want to do is to sublimate the emotions of my life into something I can stare at. My entire life can be transformed into words. I would love to stare at my worries, my insecurities, my thoughts on a page. I could stare at the words until they blur and disappear into the dark abyss forever forgotten. And the page becomes blank again as it prepares itself for the next chapter.
We accept the love we think we deserve.
