"All I wanted was to be part of an underground world where the sun doesn’t shine, there are no love songs, and the sound of children’s laughter is never, ever heard."
"Leave the dishes.
Let the celery rot in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator
and an earthen scum harden on the kitchen floor.
Leave the black crumbs in the bottom of the toaster.
Throw the cracked bowl out and don’t patch the cup.
Don’t patch anything. Don’t mend. Buy safety pins.
Don’t even sew on a button.
Let the wind have its way, then the earth
that invades as dust and then the dead
foaming up in gray rolls underneath the couch.
Talk to them. Tell them they are welcome.
Don’t keep all the pieces of the puzzles
or the doll’s tiny shoes in pairs, don’t worry
who uses whose toothbrush or if anything
matches, at all.
Except one word to another. Or a thought.
Pursue the authentic — decide first
what is authentic,
then go after it with all your heart.
Your heart, that place
you don’t even think of cleaning out.
That closet stuffed with savage mementos.
Don’t sort the paper clips from screws from saved baby teeth
or worry if we’re all eating cereal for dinner
again. Don’t answer the telephone, ever,
or weep over anything at all that breaks.
Pink molds will grow within those sealed cartons
in the refrigerator. Accept new forms of life
and talk to the dead
who drift in though the screened windows, who collect
patiently on the tops of food jars and books.
Recycle the mail, don’t read it, don’t read anything
except what destroys
the insulation between yourself and your experience
or what pulls down or what strikes at or what shatters
this ruse you call necessity."
INFPs are absolute idealists: they have values inside them which they really want to live by. This makes them good at encouraging other people’s growth, but can cause them to be too hard on themselves. They can be shy and reserved, but they’re incredibly passionate and intelligent individuals with an innate need to change the world. (x)
Books that people read romantically but shouldn’t because they’re missing the point:
- Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov
- Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare
- The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
That’s your opinion.
there’s nothing romantic about a pedophile rapist, the senseless murder-suicide of teenagers because families can’t get their shit together or the hypocrisy of the roaring 20s
FINALLY SOMEONE SAYS IT