Cease trembling and shaking and gasping
and cursing and find again your core which I am.
Rest from twistedness, distortion, deformations.

For an hour you will be me; that is, the other
half of yourself. The half you lost.

What you burnt, broke, and tore is still

in my hands: I am the keeper of fragile things
and I have kept of you what is indissoluble.

Anaïs Nin, from House Of Incest (via talisman)

(Source: violentwavesofemotion, via talisman)

crushculdesac:

{E}mma - L’air frissonne des choses qui s’enfuient

old floors.


250 men and women were asked to draw what these emotions felt like in their bodies. These are the combined results

dictionaryofobscuresorrows:

adj. entranced and unsettled by the vastness of the universe, experienced in a jolt of recognition that the night sky is not just a wallpaper but a deeply foreign ocean whose currents are steadily carrying off all other castaways, who share our predicament but are already well out of…

dictionaryofobscuresorrows:

n. the smallest measurable unit of human connection, typically exchanged between passing strangers—a flirtatious glance, a sympathetic nod, a shared laugh about some odd coincidence—moments that are fleeting and random but still contain powerful emotional nutrients that can alleviate the symptoms of feeling alone.