"You're wishin' too much, baby. You gotta stop wearing your wishbone where your backbone oughta be.”
-

beautifully poignant, yet you're never really able to grasp the feeling of loss at the end. maybe because it's so flitting, you don't know whether anything ever existed at all. or how close it came to never existing.

mortality. what right do we have to take charge of it, change it, warp the definition of it?

hey i've got a new favourite book. it was so depressing but i couldn't put it down.