and yet we were similar

you are loved. on quiet days that feel meaningless, during long nights when loneliness consumes you, when you’re reminiscing and grieving the past, on good days that feel like warmth and light, always remember that you are loved. 

please hang in there

coping with the pain of living by being a little silly

not to be cliche, but life really is the little things. that cup of coffee in the morning i make while dancing to silly songs. that one time someone said my hair looked really cute (even though i disagree). or when i draw something and finally feel confident about it. when i find a quote i deeply resonate with and it stays with me. minutes i spend laughing with someone i love. life is that. the small, really small stuff adds up to the big picture, so when i look back i see little snippets of everything and everyone i’ve ever loved.

The impulsive urge to be fluent in every language in the world so I could read their poetry and literature is back again.

reading alone in your room at sunset with your windows open while the wind caresses your skin is probably the closest thing we have to a cure for the human condition

when w. h. auden said “evil is unspectacular and always human” and ursula k. leguin said “this is the great treason of the artist: a refusal to admit the banality of evil and the terrible boredom of pain”

when toni morrison said “i just think goodness is more interesting. evil is constant. you can think of different ways to murder people, but you can do that at age five. but you have to be an adult to consciously, deliberately be good – and that’s complicated.”

when simone weil said “imaginary evil is romantic and varied; real evil is gloomy, monotonous, barren, boring. imaginary good is boring; real good is always new, marvelous, intoxicating.”