it’s over and i can’t let memories pull me back into what once was
Therapist: If you could meet your younger self, what would you do?
Me: I'd shoot her.
Therapist: No—
sometimes i think the only way i’ll ever be happy is if i disappear into the forest
In the forest of white, the birches whispered secrets only the snow could translate.
“nobody is making you do this” i am driven by unnatural forces you will never even begin to comprehend
Katherine May, from Wintering: How I learned to Flourish when Life became Frozen
who cares if i die, i’m not living any type of life now anyway