you obsess over your identity while yoursoul rots inside of you
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Andrea Gibson, "DEPRESSION [VERB]", Lord of the Butterflies
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Vladimir Nabokov, letter to his wife Véra (1925), Letters to Véra (ed. Brian Boyd & trans. Olga Voronin)
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imagine how much more fucked up the history of the world would be if eating someone's brains reliably conferred on you their memory and knowledge
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i survived a tuesday, and for what? wednesday? disgusting.
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Photograph by Vita C. Shapiro
source: The Wild Good: Lesbian Photographs & Writings on Love, edited by Beatrix Gates
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one thing i love about tumblr other sites dont have is the experience of listening to the entirety of an uploaded song while you scroll. on other sites nowadays, EVERY POST has it’s own song. give me a fucking break!
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im a girl in the same way there's a chapel in a hospital
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