#emo

It was not man who implanted in himself what is infinite and the love of what is immortal: those lofty instincts are not the offspring of his capricious will; their steadfast foundation is fixed in human nature, and they exist in spite of his efforts. He may cross and distort them – destroy them he cannot. The soul wants which must be satisfied; and whatever pains be taken to divert it from itself, it soon grows weary, restless, and disquieted amidst the enjoyments of sense. ↗

— Alexis de Tocqueville

#eternity #immortal #satisfy #love

Abby could smell his hot breath in her face. It reeked like dead apples left to rot in the scorching summer sun. ↗

— Greever Williams

#demon #murder #death

Every morning I wake up, I feel guilty; every breath of borrowed time is heavy in my chest."-Lo-The Wild Hunt ↗

— Ashley Jeffery

#guilt #remorse #the-wild-hunt #death

What I don't know don't keep me hostage. It's your love that locks me up and I want you to know that I love the way you make my heart tear up. ↗

— Tegan Quin

#dont-be-so-cruel #sara-quin #tegan-and-sara #tegan-quin #love

The idea that all souls are mortal is the only notion surely terminating love and all its forms. ↗

— Criss Jami

#atheism #belief #capability #damnation #death

Spirits didn’t notice death. By the rule of impermanence, what was meant to break simply broke, and there was only the next breaking and the next. ↗

— E.J. Koh

#battle #breaking #death #demon #fantasy

Then she loved him as she would a manifestation of herself, both silenced and wounded in existence, both everything and nothing to eternity. ↗

— E.J. Koh

#battle #breaking #death #demon #fantasy

I remembered during puberty, through the anorexic mists of intermittent menstrual cycles, that man, my father, lifting Shirley's nightdress over her head and asking her in his mocking way to choose what colour condom she wanted. 'Red or yellow?' Which did she choose? I can't remember. Perhaps she alternated. Perhaps there were other colours. It didn't happen once. It happened again and again. I had no power to stop it. That man, my father, had some control over me. I was drugged by the black silence in that big house, the vile whiff of aftershave, the crushing torment of inevitability. My father fucked Shirley using red or yellow condoms and it was those condoms that brought it all to an end. It was my last realization of the day; any more would have been too much to contemplate. That time when my mother had found used condoms in bedroom, he had admitted, after a pointless burst my father's of denial, that he had been going to prostitutes. That was no doubt true but I can't imagine clients take used condoms away with them; prostitutes would surely get rid of the things. No. My father kept those used condoms as a prize. He was fucking his fourteen-year-old-daughter. He was proud of it. Rebecca welled up with tears. Poor thing, she kept saying. Poor thing. ↗

— Alice Jamieson

#child-abuse #child-rape #child-sexual-abuse #condoms #dissociation

Bricks without straw are more easily made than imagination without memories. ↗

— Lord Dunsany

#imagination #memories #writing #imagination

There, there, best to bring it all up,' she said. My memory was in shreds. Imagine a photograph cut into narrow strips then jumbled up. Everything is there, but you can't see the whole picture and even the strips have no bearing on reality. I did know I had consumed a large amount of alcohol. But I must have done something crazier than just being found drunk to have a nurse sitting by my bed. I thought it would be a good idea to say something and planned it for several seconds. 'She's all right,' I said. 'Who is?' asked the nurse. 'Alice. I'm all right now.' As I spoke I wondered if I had said something wrong. didn't sound like me. There were so many voices muttering in the background it was hard to tell. ↗

— Alice Jamieson

#confusion #dissociation #dissociative #dissociative-identity-disorder #fragmented