She run’s wild and free. She’s a wanderer, a care-free spirit. She lives by the light of the sun and loves by the light of the moon.
My soul is impatient with itself, as with a bothersome child; its restlessness keeps growing and is forever the same. Everything interests me, but nothing holds me.
Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet (via exoticwild)

(Source:, via neur0ticbitch)


bad habits
We read to know we’re not alone.
William Nicholson (via kushandwizdom)

(via bon-kerz)

It is awful to want to go away and to want to go nowhere.
Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath. (via wordsnquotes)

(Source: wordsnquotes, via boatsandbooze)

You drink like you have to forget something.
The saddest shit ever said. (via dvadeset-sedmi-august)

(via harmable)

I don’t know. I just feel stuck, like I’m afraid to take any steps in case they’re the wrong ones.
Rebecca Stead, When You Reach Me (via soulsscrawl)

(Source: larmoyante, via lostbutyoucanfollow)

I have a deep fear of being too much. That one day
I will find my someone, and they will realize that I am
a hurricane. That they will step back and be intimidated
by my muchness.
Rumbles From My Head (via soulsscrawl)

(Source: michellekpoems, via lostbutyoucanfollow)

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