"Honey, I’m leaving you for Poussey”
when i see pictures of my favourite characters on my dash
I love that sweet smell of decay that surrounds me in forests and woods. A kind of mulchy, deep, rich rot that has no connotation of death or ending, but rather of life and age. A sense of perpetual destruction and rebirth.
Sometimes recovery is waking up early to write in coffee shops and practicing yoga and eating lots of fruit and chocolate and sometimes it’s staying in bed all day and hiding from the world until you can stop crying. All of this is okay. What’s important is that you take care of yourself no matter what kind of day you’re having.