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birdsong217:

Robert Macaulay Stevenson (Scottish, 1854-1952)
Moonrise, c1892-1900
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disorienteddreams:

Le Train(François Girard, 1985)
"April is the cruelest month, breeding
lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
memory and desire, stirring
dull roots with spring rain."

— T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land 

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"I think many people kill themselves simply to stop the debate about whether they will or they won’t."

— Susanna Kaysen

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"It’s the worst on Tuesdays.
On Tuesdays, my bed is a crib but I can’t call my
mom to sing me back to sleep in it
because I’m twenty years old and
I should know how to dig myself out
of this by now.

Nothing happens here.
Nothing spectacular.
Someone is setting off fireworks
outside my window and all I want to
do is catch one in my mouth.
All I want to do is rest.
All I want to do is stop.

Mommy, I think I’m failing.
I can’t get out of bed.
Mommy, I have a fever and I’ve
been throwing up since December.
I don’t want to scare you, but I think
my body hates me.
Mommy, my sadness has a mouth that
won’t stop screaming.
I think I’ll name it Tomorrow. or Evelyn. or Please.
Mommy, I think I’m supposed to be the hero.
I think I’m supposed to surrender to
whatever is broken inside of me and call it brave.
Mommy, I can’t.
I don’t want to be the hero.
I don’t want to be brave."

Caitlyn Siehl, Tomorrow. Evelyn. Please.