There are two reasons why people don’t talk about things; either it doesn’t mean anything to them, or it means everything
eauderose:

Claude Monet, Ice Breaking Up Near Vetheuil, 19th century (source).

eauderose:

Claude Monet, Ice Breaking Up Near Vetheuil, 19th century (source).

(Source: aleyma, via salty--breeze)

Everyone, at some point in their lives, wakes up in the middle of the night with the feeling that they are all alone in the world, and that nobody loves them now and that nobody will ever love them, and that they will never have a decent night’s sleep again and will spend their lives wandering blearily around a loveless landscape, hoping desperately that their circumstances will improve, but suspecting, in their heart of hearts, that they will remain unloved forever. The best thing to do in these circumstances is to wake somebody else up, so that they can feel this way, too.

I’m going to look extremely horrible later at school but what the hell, my feelings are my feelings. Yes I bawled my eyes out the entire night who cares. My tears are my tears.

No one gets no one gets me no one gets me

It’s happening again. This feeling. Sad. Blue. Unhappy. Empty. Fucking weakling

It might go well, or it might not. But love is like that. When you fall in love, the natural thing to do is give yourself to it. That’s what I think. It’s just one form of sincerity.
And that’s why I want you to go on ahead of me if you can. Don’t wait for me. Sleep with other girls if you want to. Don’t let thoughts of me hold you back. Just do what you want to do. Otherwise, I might end up taking you with me, and that is the one thing I don’t want to do. I don’t want to interfere with your life. I don’t want to interfere with anybody’s life. Like I said before, I want you to come to see me every once in a while, and always remember me. That’s all I want.
I love you also means I love you more than anyone loves you, or has loved you, or will love you, and also, I love you in a way that no one loves you, or has loved you, or will love you, and also, I love you in a way that I love no one else, and never have loved anyone else, and never will love anyone else.
kecobe:

Kamisaka Sekka (Japanese; 1866–1942)Moon over Musashino Woodcut, 1909 In: Momoyogusa = Flowers of a Hundred Worlds (Kyoto: Unsōdō) The New York Public Library, Spencer Collection

kecobe:

Kamisaka Sekka (Japanese; 1866–1942)
Moon over Musashino
Woodcut, 1909
In: Momoyogusa = Flowers of a Hundred Worlds (Kyoto: Unsōdō)
The New York Public Library, Spencer Collection

(via thegiftsoflife)

“Her heart was a secret garden and the walls were very high.”