There are certain things in which one is unable to believe for the simple reason that he never ceases to feel them. Things of this sort—things which are always inside of us and in fact are us and which consequently will not be pushed off or away where we can begin thinking about them—are no longer things; they, and the us which they are, equals A Verb; an IS.
Koen Lybaert, Abstract N° 643, 2013 (Oil on Canvas)
no one cares if you don’t like short hair on girls shut the fuck up
me: shows friends something that i think is funny
me: *laughs hysterically*
Not even one’s own pain weighs so heavy as the pain one feels with someone, for someone, a pain intensified by the imagination and prolonged by a hundred echoes.
Matte Black MacBook Air - by Me