garnet gospel

in my henry winter era, which means I have a migraine and I'd gladly push some annoying talkative bitch off a cliff.

he asked me if I knew how to cook, so I showed him my pinterest boards and spotify playlists.

being loved by woman and not just in romantic way is the greatest blessing. like, why are you so caring, empathetic, and always giving, expecting nothing in return? women and their bleeding hearts, for god's sake.

many things change from summer to summer, but "summertime sadness" stays on repeat.

maybe I am not the smartest or the prettiest girl in the room but none of them is as anxious as I am.

sex is good but have you ever felt what it is to be truly seen? to be loved and accepted, just as you are – no guilt pressed upon your shoulders, only truth in their words, respect in their gaze, a soul that shares your way of seeing the world. and their presence – quiet, steady – brings peace, even when the rest of life wears thin and restless on your skin.

there's microplastic in my body but also useless knowledge, silly scientific facts, curiosity, a need to get to the bottom of things, and a constant search for hidden meanings in everything – and I'm not quite sure which of these is the real cause for concern.

dostoevsky this, camus that. but I don't remember either of them releasing an album called "ultraviolence", whereas lana del rey did.

I've always longed for something simple: blackout curtains to keep the sunlight at bay, a weighted blanket to sink into, speakers playing the sound of rain, a humidifier, flight mode on my phone, and sleep – just sleep, uninterrupted.

maybe I'm overly emotional and hysterical but you don't feel anything and that's worse.