Taylor Swift (2006)

In Greek, "nostalgia” literally means "the pain from an old wound”. It's a twinge in your heart, far more powerful than memory alone. This device isn't a spaceship, it's a time machine. It goes backwards and forwards, it takes us to a place where we ache to go again. It’s not called the wheel, it’s called the carousel. It let’s us travel the way a child travels - around and around, and back home again, to a place where we know we are loved.

Don Draper, “The Wheel”

I run from place to place, wanting to belong, wanting to find a home. When will I learn that my home is within me and it comes with me everywhere I go?

being an only child and not close with your parents is hard when you love talking and can’t keep your mouth shut and are constantly making jokes. like i’ve always just kinda talked to myself since i had no one to talk to and now being think i’m weird. i cant be the only one who will have full on conversations out loud with only myself, right?

Just one of the things that’s been on my mind

If the stars we see in the sky is light projected to us from dead stars millions of years in the past due to light traveling slower in space. That means that if there is intelligent life out there looking at us from their galaxy then what they’re seeing is light images from our galaxy/planet millions of years ago. They’re currently seeing light images from our galaxy during the time dinosaurs roamed our planet. Which is probably why they’ve yet tried to make contact because they don’t see intelligent life on our planet yet. And according to Einstein’s Theory of Relativity. If they were to use a telescope to look at our planet they’d probably see dinosaurs in real time. That’s a form of time travel.

Nesta at solstice with the inner circle:

the thing is, i knew i was going to lose you and i knew it was going to hurt. however, i often find myself up at night, thinking about what could have been.

It’s a very tragic thing, not being able to write beautiful things.

Like you have the words in you, all the big words and their synonyms, yet you can’t put them in the right order, and you read all these enchanting extracts of books or poems that people write everywhere and still not figure out how interpret your thoughts in a way so beautiful and attractive like these writers do. It’s the purest yet the most devastating form of jealousy.

one of my favorite things about human physiology is the way our eyes change when we look at someone we love. our pupils dilate automatically like they do when it’s dark outside and they’re trying to let more light in. except now it’s the light of your favorite person. the edges of our eyes soften a little and they sometimes even get watery which we also can’t control. tears of joy. we tend to raise our eyebrows as if we’re trying to make our eyes bigger. trying to get a better vision and seeing all the details. we tend to blink less than usual just to make the moment last a bit longer. even if it’s just a second. or when you smile at someone with your entire face involved and your eyes just crinkle and create a sparkle in them. and it all happens so effortlessly and universally.

In the depth of those words, i intend to write a letter to myself but it came out as a death note instead, i was in awe-destruction. These words carry heavy bricks and burning rage, where should i put it down? I wanted to write about what a fine and a good day looks like but then i remember Van Gogh's saying, 'this sadness will last forever' and so i hold the pen and start pouring blood, spilled on the pages of my dear diary. These kind of stuff happens when you cant pull the trigger. Millions of thoughts written yet none could be able to elucidate the unsaid., it always went down the grave coverted in the dead bones.

- Marium.

avril lavigne photographed by danielle levitt, 2002 🤘🏼🖤