mal de coucou
n. a phenomenon in which you have an active social life but very few close friends—people who you can trust, who you can be yourself with, who can help flush out the weird psychological toxins that tend to accumulate over time—which is a form of acute social malnutrition in which even if you devour an entire buffet of chitchat, you’ll still feel pangs of hunger.
She was beautiful, but she was beautiful in the way a forest fire was beautiful: something to be admired from a distance, not up close.
Cleaned up a WIP of War from earlier but it’s still pretty messy. Eventually I’ll do the rest of the Apocalyptic Horsepeople, oooor the universe will give me a Good Omens movie/show!!!
“Will you fight for me?
Will you stand against the tide
and the breaking waves?” — Daily Haiku on Love by Tyler Knott Gregson (via tylerknott)
What else? She is so beautiful. You don’t get tired of looking at her. You never worry if she is smarter than you: You know she is. She is funny without ever being mean. I love her. I am so lucky to love her, Van Houten. You don’t get to chose if you get hurt in this world, old man, but you do have some say in who hurts you. I like my choices. I hope she likes hers.
The Fault In Our Stars, John Green, page 313
