It doesn’t seem to be here that we belong, here where space is curved, the earth is round, we’re all going to die, and it seems as wise to stay in bed as budge. It is strange here, not quite warm enough, or too warm, too leafy, or inedible, or windy, or dead. It is not, frankly, the sort of home for people one would have thought of—although I lack the fancy to imagine another.
whatoccupiesmymind reblogged this from aloneplusone
thatisquiteintriguing liked this
opticsponge liked this
abandonedroots reblogged this from aloneplusone
aestheticallyabstract reblogged this from aloneplusone
aloneplusone posted this