Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals Of Sylvia Plath

― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

The power Uchiha brothers hold.

“That is — your friend?"

"Philtatos," Achilles replied, sharply. Most beloved.

You deceived me, because you knew I was strong.

You injured me, because you knew I would survive.

If I was less strong, tell me, would you’ve been much nicer to me?

- k.m

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.

19. The year I finally found myself again after searching years and years, and then lost it again too soon like the clam that had been stolen it’s only pearl. ( I had it I swear.)

Vengeance seeking, forever raging, endlessly dreaming about something greater, wistful remembrances, nothing but all numb. Sitting in a darkest void of a room with full of oneself, almost too exhausting, almost exciting. I am soulless.