And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul,...– Sylvia Plath (via soubresaut)
Lost in Drowned Bliss
“Things are what they are, but we are never what we are,” she said as she wrapped the sandwiches in plastic and tucked away the tears in a flute. “No its things. They hourly change before our eyes while we stay stuck in who we are and where we have been.” “Things are solid; we stumble, unglue, recombine.” “Or what we see is no more a part of us than the...
Just realised Reality is awaiting my return.