I like to be consumed by things. Consumed by words, consumed by love, consumed by art, and life, and people. Consumed by the flesh on your hands and bones beneath your skin. Consumed by the twinkle in your eye and the beat of your heart. Consumed by the pain in your soul and the fear in your mind. Consumed by everything that is real.
Some of y’all haven’t become so disillusioned with your own reality that you spend years of your life daydreaming about entirely made up worlds and people and it shows
“There are no mistakes. The events we bring upon ourselves, no matter how unpleasant, are necessary in order to learn what we need to learn; whatever steps we take, they’re necessary to reach the places we’ve chosen to go.”
- Richard Bach, The Bridge Across Forever: A True Love Story
today my prof said to my class “you don’t truly love someone until they’ve hurt you and you still think of them as the greatest person in the world. Love is the most violent act.” ok ok ok
Me trying to eat a (1) grilled cheese sandwich molten lava fresh from the frying pan, and knowing I’m lactose intolerant.
me thinking about how it’s almost autumn and how im gonna be thriving and baking pumpkin bread for all my friends and wearing cozy socks with ghosts on them