awash in humorous angst

taking myself too seriously and other varieties of self-doubt

People empty me. I have to get away to refill.

- Charles Bukowski (via themeanbetweenextremes)

(via br4inwashed)

For it would seem - her case proved it - that we write, not with the fingers, but with the whole person. The nerve which controls the pen winds itself about every fibre of our being, threads the heart, pierces the liver.

- Virginia Woolf, Orlando (via tocamelot)

(via the-rodin-not-taken)

295*

straynotions:

     *

she moseyed beneath his rib cage
his skin was grey in the sallow light
if she could just close her eyes and listen
the way children are dumbstruck
by drawling adipose clouds

she knows how to impersonate hunger
both the literal and metaphorical kind
though she has not eaten in some time

     *

Please know there are much better things in life than being lonely or liked or bitter or mean or self-conscious. We are all full of shit. Go love someone just because; I know your heart may be badly bruised, or even the victim of numerous knifings, but it will always heal, even if you don’t want it to; it keeps going. There are the most fantastic, beautiful things and people out there, I promise. It is up to you to find them.

- Chuck Palahniuk (via explore-everywhere)

(via northwesterlies)

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