i would stare at the grains of light suspended in that silent space, struggling to see into my own heart. what did i want? and what did others want from me? but i could never find the answers. sometimes i would reach out and try to grasp the grains of light, but my fingers touched nothing.
--norwegian wood, haruki murakami. ★ facebook ★ twitter ★ tumblr ★
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take my shit and i will cut you.