Cammy

Summer has begun. Perhaps the worst season for me. I would like to do so much, maybe too much, but I can’t. My clothes are light, as is my soul, but I remain attached to a world that prevents me from moving due to its sultriness. Every glimmer of hope, every search for a way out of my condition is extinguished and stopped by the burning sun. Summer, with its pale and absorbed noon, makes me a prisoner to my own pain in living.

And I’ll never be able to prevent myself from being so horribly limited, that is how the Universe has condemned me.

A summer spent in Italy.

Calmness is going to wash over you once again and the Sun will kiss your skin, right where it used to hurt the most. Everything is fine and spring is coming right back to you.

February, month of despair, with a skewered heart in the centre.

Syl. ♡

Is it better to speak or to die?

And you are as beautiful as it. Beautiful and worth the stains.

To live is to change.