Where I end and she begins...

This is Lucy in the sky with diamonds - she makes me laugh like no one else. She's always there when I need her and we are going to see the world together through those "kaleidoscope eyes." This makes me think of us: we are friends and I do like to pass the day with you in serious and inconsequential chatter. I wouldn't mind washing up beside you, dusting beside you, reading the back half of the paper while you read the front. We are friends and I would miss you, do miss you and think of you very often.

The Heart is a Lonely Hunter

"This was her, Mick Kelly, walking in the daytime and by herself at night. In the hot sun and in the dark with all the plans and feelings. This music was her—the real plain her...This music did not take a long time or a short time. It did not have anything to do with time going by at all. She sat with her arms around her legs, biting her salty knee very hard. The whole world was this symphony, and there was not enough of her to listen... Now that it was over there was only her heart beating like a rabbit and this terrible hurt."

Carson McCullers

"She let out a laugh, and then she put her hand over her mouth like she was angry at herself for forgetting her sadness."

FOR when that reality show producer said that "(you) have an air of melancholy about you"

I am the most unhappy soul alive…
…Then do I ache, and bleed, and smart, elsewhere; still, call it soul for it is solely mine.

Neil Gaiman

your chaos

VIA GREYSKYMORNING

"When was the last time you wanted to say it all to the right person? To have it all come out right, to surprise yourself at how together you could be. When was the last time you ever met someone who made you want to give it all to them? I mean give yourself to them. Where you couldn’t express yourself enough - like you wanted to cut off one of your arms to be understood. That’s it - you would cut your head off to have someone understand you. You know how pointless that one is. You know how many times you’ve smashed yourself to bits on the rocks."

—

Henry Rollins

Post humos.

My human anatomy never gave me the flight that i desired. Lungs not able to wheeze out the words that were written so quickly on my brain. Fingers, shaking to grasp what i had lost. Truth, love, and hope. Where did those die off inside my frame of muscle and bones?