that which the sea breaks against

all of my writing is actually just thinly-veiled fantasy about being seen at your worst and still being loved

all i wanna do is lie in the sun!!!! read my books!!!! daydream about fictional scenarios!!!!! love without fear of abandonment!!!!!! smell like vanilla!!!!!!! cry over great poetry!!!!! sit on the grass for hours on end!!!!! not care about how others perceive me!!!!!! find god in the smallest of things!!!!! be free of guilt and shame!!!!

adding 'perhaps' after every factoid i drop in case im wrong

the sky is blue! ....perhaps

girl who desperately craves something but is also deathly afraid of reaching for it: *hasnt responded to you in a week*

writing? oh, i’m definitely writing. in my head. during the most inconvenient times. like in the shower or when i’m about to fall asleep. actual typing? no, no, we don’t do that here.

Being a young adult is so strange. You enter a coffee shop. The 20 year old girl waiting behind you cried all night because she just came to a new city for university and she feels so alone. That 27 year old guy over there works a job he is overqualified for, he lives with his parents and wants to move out but doesn't know what to do about it. That one 24 year old dude already has a car, a house, and a job waiting for him once he graduates thanks to his dad's connections. The 26 year old barista couldn't complete his higher education because he has to work and take care of his family. The 28 year old girl sitting next to you has no friends to go out with so she is texting her mother. That couple (both 25 years old) are married and the girl is pregnant. The 29 year old writing something on her laptop has realized that she chose the wrong major so she is trying to start all over. We are not alone in this, but we are actually so alone. Do you feel me

how lucky are we to live in a world with small joys? raspberry bushes, trickling streams, sun-warmed patches of moss, bumblebees, home baked bread, fireplaces, knit sweaters, starry night skies, books that tell any story you can imagine — the earth happens to love us and if you are kind you will love her back.

“how did you get into writing” girl nobody gets into writing. writing shows up one day at your door and gets into you

the feminine, the masculine, the artistic urge to stare at the paintings until they make you hallucinate, to read poems until they seep inside your soul, to write such words that hold the power to shatter a person's heart and fill the void at the same time.