The problem with having mental illnesses since being a child is that your whole identity grew around them and you have no idea who you really are.
(via sheisthereasonformysmile)
Ingeborg Bachmann, from In the Storm of Roses: Selected Poems; “Fog Land,” wr. c. 1956
(via trains-and-veins)
(Source: patrickfuerli, via eternainocencia)
(Source: dapchicklete)
(Source: hide)
You said that I don’t care, but of course I do
How come when I’m alone, I only think of you
