“We live and breathe words. It was books that kept me from taking my own life after I thought I could never love anyone, never be loved again. It was books that made me feel that perhaps I was not completely alone. They could be honest with me, and I with them.”
ambedo n. - a kind of melacholic trance in which you become completely absorbed in vivid sensory details—raindrops skittering down a window, tall trees leaning in the wind, clouds of cream swirling in your coffee—which leads to a dawning awareness of the haunting fragility of life.
Everyone is moving out and I’m studying for two more finals. I want to go to the beach. I also want to go see Great Gatsby again!
I don’t want to be
your entire world, no.
I would be happy
just to be your morning coffee,
your hanging car keys,
your wallet.
Something seemingly
insignificant,
but if lost throws off
your entire day.
(Source: lucyquin)