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I want to explain how exhausted I am. Even in my dreams. How I wake up tired. How I’m being drowned by some kind of black wave.

Elizabeth Wurtzel, Prozac Nation    (via slumscape)

         

(via scntrx)


Everyone who terrifies you is sixty-five percent water.
And everyone you love is made of stardust, and I know sometimes you cannot even breathe deeply, and the night sky is no home,
and you have cried yourself to sleep enough times that you are down to your last two percent, but
nothing is infinite,
not even loss.
You are made of the sea and the stars, and one day
you are going to find yourself again.
– Finn Butler (via oofpoetry)
The sadness will last forever. – Suicide note of Vincent van Gogh (1853-1890)


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