The only doors that will open for me are the doors of death. And that is just. I have erred and I must pay. I have never made a mistake when I followed my instinct, but always when I obeyed reason. I do not blame anyone. I do not reproach anyone but myself. I am responsible, just as much for the things I did well as for my weaknesses and decline. My star has set. I work and make an effort even though I know everything is a farce. My star has set.
written by Benito Mussolini, March 1945

Get scared. It will do you good. Smoke a bit, stare blankly at some ceilings, beat your head against some walls, refuse to see some people, paint and write. Get scared some more. Allow your little mind to do nothing but function. Stay inside, go out - I don’t care what you’ll do; but stay scared as hell. You will never be able to experience everything. So, please, do poetical justice to your soul and simply experience yourself.
written by Albert Camus, from Notebooks, 1951-1959  (via commovente)

(via diaryofafraud)

so I’m pretty open about my sexuality (see tag~) and I figured another post was due as there are a few things bothering me right now

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How many times have people used a pen or paintbrush because they couldn’t pull the trigger?
written by Virginia Woolf, from Selected Essays

(Source: violentwavesofemotion, via obfuscates)

You eat your goddamn Cheerios and bicker with the bitch in your head who keeps telling you you’re fat and weak: Shut up, you say, I’m busy, leave me alone. When she leaves you alone, there’s a silence and a solitude that will take some getting used to. You will miss her sometimes.
Bear in mind she’s trying to kill you. Bear in mind you have a life to live.
written by Marya Hornbacher, Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia

(via velleiite)