it's so dry here
It's crazy how disasters like the crash of Air France flight 447 still occur. Reading about it feels strange, as if it really couldn't and shouldn't have happened, even though it did in that small possibility that it could. And when I keep thinking about airplanes and crashes and then the sky and the sea, it makes me feel so weary because I think that that kind of fate, of being both peaceful and destructive, is a really pretty sort of tragedy.


Snapped a photo on my flight back to California (during spring break, when my flight arrived at 5 in the morning) This is my dream world! Endless clouds upon clouds under the entire open and empty sky

Anyway, my home here is so still. Nothing really has changed at all, and I guess I actually depend on and find comfort in that.

This is an old post from crushes

g,
I realized the other day, that when I’m around you is the only time I really smile. And I don’t just smile. I have this closet full of smiles that I’d never had good reason to use before. When I’m around other people, I smile when I know I should be smiling. But with you, I smile because I couldn’t do anything else, even if I wanted to.
— s

that is not, but could be, mine