A spider’s web, tense for the dew’s touch. A pail lifted, still and...– Ted Hughes
a strange week in a good sort of way. Food tastes amazing again. Even the simplest of things releases happiness in my brain, hot chocolate, burger. It feels good. Walking to the library, the sky dusky white, that pearly white ball in the sky making the slick translucent floor glisten. The weather may be sharp, but it is vital. I don’t think I have ever experienced so many strangers...
Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses...– Sylvia Plath (via rawcolorado) This is actually from Oscar Wilde’s The Canterville Ghost… It is probably my favourite of his.