The flight back to the real world
deer tracks in the snow
Brookie I love you
Melbourne
“
I sit in the forest talking of death
which is monotonous:
though there are many ways of dying
there is only one death song,
the colour of mist:
it says Why Why
I do not want revenge, I do not want expiation,
I only want to ask someone
how I was lost,
how I was lost
I am the lost heart of a murderer
who has not yet killed,
who does not yet know he wishes
to kill.
(via iwantmybearsuit, pullinghairs)
“ She wasn’t doing a thing that I could see, except standing there, leaning on the balcony railing, holding the universe together.
J.D. Salinger, A Girl I Knew
