You pick up each and every piece of yourself as delicately as possible and build a new masterpiece while crying ,while licking your wounds. But you will build something beautiful once again. That's inevitable.

btw you will miss this in 5 or 10 years. memory will smooth these circumstances down like a river stone, and you will find yourself longing for a shade of light or a moment of this particular innocence. you don't know about what happens next, and one day that will be the most alluring thing of all. don't leave it all for nostalgia. have a nice night now, whatever night it happens to be.

the worst part about grief is that it feels like the world should be horrendously earth shatteringly changed, and to an extent it IS but its also the same. to everyone else it's just another tuesday. the world moves on. you have to go grocery shopping.

Life goes on! That's it's basic mechanism.

My mind is a graveyard I visit frequently to meet ghosts.

crime and punishment is such a funny book because on one hand porfiry is playing six dimensional chess, psychologically torturing, viciously gaslighting raskolnikov into confessing the crime by making himself inescapable and raskolnikov’s heart is beating out of his chest as he’s like he’s too smart for me, he knows everything, how can I possibly outsmart this madman. but then also porifry will ask questions like “do you think some people are allowed to kill others and that you are one of those people” and raskolnikov will just be like “yeah”