lo

3,168 notes

Advice? I don’t have advice. Stop aspiring and start writing. If you’re writing, you’re a writer. Write like you’re a goddamn death row inmate and the governor is out of the country and there’s no chance for a pardon. Write like you’re clinging to the edge of a cliff, white knuckles, on your last breath, and you’ve got just one last thing to say, like you’re a bird flying over us and you can see everything, and please, for God’s sake, tell us something that will save us from ourselves. Take a deep breath and tell us your deepest, darkest secret, so we can wipe our brow and know that we’re not alone. Write like you have a message from the king. Or don’t. Who knows, maybe you’re one of the lucky ones who doesn’t have to.

580,977 notes

You smiled to me and I thought: Damn, I’m fucking in love with you.

31,289 notes

and after the earth dies, some 5 billion years from now, after it’s burned to a crisp, or even swallowed by the sun, there will be other worlds and stars and galaxies coming into being — and they will know nothing of a place once called earth.

3,837 notes

What horrifies me most is the idea of being useless: well-educated, brilliantly promising, and fading out into an indifferent middle age.