it pains me to think of how when i get older i won’t be able to read my current thoughts really, because they’re scattered across a million different blogs and a trillion different notebooks, and backs of receipts and corners of maths workbooks and whimsical text messages and skype messages and facebook messages and handwritten messages even. how can i get a picture of myself? when...
time, stop passing. it hurts.
On average, odd years have been the best for me. I’m at a point where everyone...– Fragments for the End of the Year by Jennifer K. Sweeney (with thanks to read a little poetry)
I think about this notebook. It’s not a memoir. It lacks important things. I...– “Industrious Amazement: A Notebook,” Anna Kamienska (via clavicola)
I’ve come to think that happiness isn’t really produced by conscious...– An article from The New Yorker