And I sit here without identity: faceless.
My head aches.
The Unabridged Journals, Sylvia Plath
The Unabridged Journals, Sylvia Plath
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{imperfect}
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2013
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outubro
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- Oh, how they come and go
- without
- a self, every moment it exists, is in a process of...
- Don't you forget about me
- Tonight
- Nietzsche lo pone en duda
- a hole that extends to the center of the earth
- to go with my mood for today
- "This is the most Wes Anderson thing I've seen in...
- pornography is full of men who if you were to diag...
- that suffocating moment...
- Call your name two, three times in a row...
- quem cala consente.
- Love In The Sky
- em busca do sentido
- You don't possess life; life expresses itself thro...
- finding a place where the beam of light can be caught
- nos tempos livres
- Elena Tonra i love you so
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outubro
(19)
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