Sylvia Plath, The Journals of Sylvia Plath (via durianquotes)
(via virginpure)
Yes, I was infatuated with you; I am still. No one has ever heightened such a keen capacity of physical sensation in me. I cut you out because I couldn’t stand being a passing fancy. Before I give my body, I must give my thoughts, my mind, my dreams. And you weren’t having any of those.
Virginia Woolf, Selected Letters (via crooked-ly)
(Source: violentwavesofemotion, via abhorred-pollution)
Just in case you ever foolishly forget; I’m never not thinking of you.
Honestly the worst part about the next two days will be hearing girls complain about “breaking out” before prom. Theyve already started and I already feel humiliated. And what I want to say is: Unless you have lived 8 years of your life with a face covered in acne and tried virtually every prescription and non-prescription medication available and had nothing work and had your middle school peers mock you and adults ask “what’s wrong with your face” and received unsolicited skin care advice from strangers, you do not fucking know what it’s like to have acne and you do not get to complain about what you think is “breaking out” in front of my scarred and pimple-ridden face. You don’t know even a fraction of what it’s like to actually Be Ugly. What is a temporary inconvenience for you is a chronic reality for me. And it hurts to hear people upset that they have to spend a few days looking how I look every single day
