Red.
Red.
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"She’s like smoke: you think you’re seeing her clearly enough, but when you reach for her there’s nothing there."
Ryū Murakami 
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"For girls who are aware that our culture expects them to be benignly happy, shiny objects—smile for me, baby—there can be a defiance in not only embracing sadness online, but cultivating a kind of ambiguity as to where the performed feeling ends and the “genuine” feeling begins."

Lindsay Zoladz in "Ordinary Machines: Pretty When You Cry" for Pitchfork

I’ve been thinking about this in the context of why the internet has been and continues to be an important outlet for me. It doesn’t hold the same weight as it did when I was 18 or 19 or 20 years old, but still, I turn to it because it allows me to be vulnerable in public. 

There are levels of performativity in cultivating an online identity, or at least it seems that way. But maybe we cling to our online identities because we need them to feel like complete human beings. Maybe it’s not performing at all so much as releasing parts of ourselves that previously had no way of being given the light to shine and prosper. 

I do not know what I would have done if I did not have words to save me. And the keyboard became an easier method of communication. I still cherish writing by hand; it gives me the means of clarifying my thoughts in a way that a computer screen can’t. But the access to a keyboard also allowed me the possibility of quickness and ease. Let me spew forth this sadness right now. 

(via britticisms)

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"Books are the ultimate Dumpees: put them down and they’ll wait for you forever; pay attention to them and they always love you back."
John Green, An Abundance of Katherines
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Mildly sexual blog ♥
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"My memory loves you… it asks about you all the time."
Jonathan Carroll
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