to connect with this

as though sadness was the only option:

Maybe I only ever envisioned myself grown and bathed in loneliness. That’s what I wanted from a city, any city, and why I wanted to live in one: anonymity and painful quiet. It was what I expected. It was the most I could imagine. For my entire life I’ve been haunted by the conviction that the purest, most profound beauty is borne out of, and borne into, sadness. It seemed the only mode of being that would ever suit me.

There is a saying that a psychotic person drowns in the same waters in which a mystic swims. Sometimes there is a sense of drowning, but it seems a worthy risk to me. If I were to be given a new name, I’d like it to be one who loves water. I think now I might even chose that over one who loves flight.

- nightmare brunette