It Absolutely Shatters My Soul To Annotate On Books. I Don't Know How People So Easily Highlight Lines

it absolutely shatters my soul to annotate on books. I don't know how people so easily highlight lines and tab pages, it feels like I'm taking a knife and stabbing the book's soul and also my own heart. But still, there's this feeling of joy that comes with underlining my favourite scenes and dialogues and drawing little hearts and stars around them. And that feeling exceeds the pain.

'am i home if i dont know this place?'

to be in a room full of people you know and feel alienated.

getting too attached to fictional characters when you read because thats when you feel the most understood.

to be called 'shy and quiet' when youre only a little child inside who wishes to be able to speak her mind and feel understood.

to be afraid of closeness and intimacy and how love and affection feels unbearable to you because you grew up in a place where you never felt loved even if you were. being able to accept love only if its from a distance.

to never open up because everytime you spoke, you wished youd rather died instead.

there's two types people:

those who absolutely love hozier in a way only his songs can explain or

those who are like "oh the guy who sang that gay church song"

i wish i could get in a room of the first type of people and scream "no grave can hold my body down, I'd crawl home to her" at the top of my lungs

couldn't not reblog this

Charlie next to his globe: Charlie next to his world:

I feel so intensely the delights of shutting oneself up in a little world of one’s own, with pictures and music and everything beautiful.

Virginia Woolf, The Voyage Out

romanticizing exams 💌🌙