kiramarch - Marsch
Marsch

and the tragedy of existence.

25 posts

All Memories Are Traces Of Tears.

All Memories Are Traces Of Tears.
All Memories Are Traces Of Tears.
All Memories Are Traces Of Tears.
All Memories Are Traces Of Tears.

All memories are traces of tears.

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More Posts from Kiramarch

1 year ago

Erik Satie, wind, strangers and sun rays on skin.

1 year ago

This is how winter feels like to me.

This Is How Winter Feels Like To Me.
This Is How Winter Feels Like To Me.

And Charles Bukowski poems.

Slowdive, cold wind, the day ends too quickly. Usual cigarette tastes different and I can’t comprehend any thought or feelings, it’s just constant void and unknown ache. I really do hate winter, yet I enjoy it’s silence. The numbness.


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1 year ago
text id:   I must get my soul back from you; I am killing my flesh without it.

― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath