twitter: @eugenio_fouz
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“I can describe it as a pain in the head, some central point, a wound which, somehow, had always been there — something slowly and steadily deforming all hope in me; something that forces me to cling to the past and cling and cling — I cling to the blood, I cling to my own ache, I cling to the past and it gets to a point when I can’t even remember without hurting. I do feed off it, do you understand? It’s not the disease anymore, Anne, it is me, I’m telling you it is me! I blindly follow it because I want to know it and it drives me inward, each time all the most inward, and yet I can only use abstract terms to refer to it and then I get mad at myself. Or I am mad. Probably both. Anne, I am not a loser and I am not weak and I have been battling this ever since I can remember myself. And every single time I try to describe it to someone I love, I only end up sounding like a self-centered asshole who is so damn arrogant in her pain. And then I cannot describe it — I fail, I always fail so forgive me […]”
— Anne Sexton, from A Self-Portrait In Letters (via violentwavesofemotion)
(via thegirlwhocrieswolf)
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EXTRAS
Seven rules
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@IrenaBuzarewicz on Twitter
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the important, relevant thing
E.F.-21.4.2022
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#LIFE (@canva)
5 pages
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Mr. Organik-
‘It takes courage to be different‘
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efnotebloc 