"And when I saw those places, walked by them and reached out to touch where my fingers had once touched before, I felt parts of me were still in those places. I felt that I somehow had left a piece of myself there, maybe like we all do, and I continue to leave pieces everywhere I go. It’s strange to think about yourself haunting places you’ve once spent moments or minutes or hours of your life at but I think it’s true. Somehow parts of ourselves stay there in the soil or in the stone. They say it’s so easy to miss someone once they’re gone well maybe it’s just as easy to miss yourself."

- kelsey from pigmenting

tonight, Lykke Li

keep us safe until the night; what happens next then? what happens when night falls? wouldn't it be better to keep us safe day and night? but no one can do that, can they? 

yesterday, the night before tomorrow. 

so hard to cast away the night when so much of me has moved forward, yet so much of me dwells there still. it is like a tiny, tiny pond, a subterranean, miniscule pond of unknowable depth, submerged within a clear, wavering stream that's struggling to trickle forth. 

"All I knew about the well was its frightening depth. It was deep beyond measuring, and crammed full of darkness, as if all the world's darknesses had been boiled down to their ultimate density."

- Norwegian Wood, Haruki Murakami