let's get funky

Franz Kafka (via itsquoted)

Jack Kerouac

Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar (via feellng)

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.   They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had   And add some extra, just for you. But they were fucked up in their turn   By fools in old-style hats and coats, Who half the time were soppy-stern   And half at one another’s throats. Man hands on misery to man.   It deepens like a coastal shelf. Get out as early as you can,   And don’t have any kids yourself.

Talking in bed ought to be easiest, Lying together there goes back so far, An emblem of two people being honest. Yet more and more time passes silently. Outside, the wind’s incomplete unrest Builds and disperses clouds in the sky, And dark towns heap up on the horizon. None of this cares for us. Nothing shows why At this unique distance from isolation It becomes still more difficult to find Words at once true and kind, Or not untrue and not unkind.

Virginia Woolf, from a diary entry (via violentwavesofemotion)