a sudden rush*

I’d say go to hell, but I never want to see you again.
—  Sylvia Plath 

How do you get so empty? Who takes it out of you?
—  Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451 
Le Me when my mom says I have to work on a portfolio I’m supposed to hand in until the end of September…
Drunk people speak in sober truths.
Even though I work for the online version of a newspapaer, I’m in love with printed press. Irreplaceable.
THE autumn outfit.

Trust me if you dare.
Bewitching as always.

F.
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