You don't know what some moments mean to you, until they pass and become memories.
βI just feel so fucking empty sometimes and itβs so exhausting to feel nothing and everything at the same time.β
Art, music, books, movies, writing... these are all proof that our souls have the ability to escape this fragile reality
Do we really have to search for love in humans? Is it not enough to love art, the moon, the ocean, and the stars?