spallucce

the bus is never going to come because im a bad person

I'm like if a missing person was literally right there

i don’t think people understand how much of life is grief. not just people dying, but losing the version of yourself you thought you’d become. grieving the city you had to leave. the friends you lost not in argument, but in silence. the summer that will never come back. the feeling that maybe you peaked at 12 when you were reading books under the covers and believing in forever

Old writers used to be like ohhhh geeee i hope no one finds my private letters. ohhhhh my little letters they’re so beautifully written and personal i hope no one gets a hold of my big stack of personal letters ouhhh

I'm normal in a lot of ways (enjoy bread, etc)