A writer is a world trapped in a person.
I think too much. I think ahead. I think behind. I think sideways. I think it all. If it exists, I’ve fucking thought of it.
there’s a lot of unspoken pressure to keep liking the things you used to like and to keep dressing the way you’ve always dressed and to never question what you believe in and basically “be yourself” has slowly morphed into “be what everyone knows you as” but trust me when i say if you just give it up and simply make decisions and take actions based purely on what would make you happy, you’ll gain a very comforting sense of self peace