i hate when super loud planes fly over. i’m always convinced we’re being nuked and i just sit here expecting to die.
Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one’s head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no to-morrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace.
|—||Sylvia Plath (via atomos)|