“This is for the people I’ll never meet. This is for the person who I might have kissed had I taken a different subway line on Saturday and the person I might have been if that boy hadn’t broken my mother’s teenage heart. This is for the people I would’ve loved if last winter hadn’t been so cold and for the city I would’ve called home if I had written haikus on napkins and carried pens in dress pockets and in the knots of my hair. This is for who I was, who I am, who I might be. This is for you.” — Camryn Pulaski Day [   ]

(via oh-totoro)

636 : Frigid


I want the winter. I want the snow and the quiet and the excuse of layers and layers of blacks. I want the slowed time intervals, crisp air, and overall coldness. I want the incident light reflecting off the white snow, lightening the dark sky. hurry up winter.

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Although I have always liked the thought of being in a relationship, I just am not ready, not now, perhaps never. I realized how much I want to walk my path alone, I love to be alone. I hate attention, and there’s nothing more pleasing to me than to fade into the background, watch people from a distance and be an unknown soul.

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**sigh. I love my blog.

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