it’s saturday, and i’ve been crying non stop because i love stories, i love my books, and i saw or thought something about it that made me burst in tears, and then i tried to stop myself from crying because it feels so wrong to cry over things like this, but i can feel it, i swear i can feel it, all of these stories, they are alive, they are inside me, they are out there and i’m going to build a good life for myself because i’ve been through so much and who gives a FUCK about what makes me cry so hard on a saturday afternoon, my god, i’m alive, i’m alive, and this world is full of beautiful stories and i belong to them, i’m a part of them. i can feel it in my bones the stillness and the peacefulness of just loving the things that people have created for ourselves.
