flâneur

day after tomorrow - postcards by elle

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postcard 70: an ode to the quarter century of my life, everything i know about love, and turning twenty six

I did not give to anyone the responsibility for my life. It is mine. I made it. And can do what I want with it. “But I also think she was crying because, through the music, she might have guessed there were other ways of feeling, there were more delicate existences and even a certain luxury of the soul. She knew that there were a lot of things she didn’t know how to understand.” — The Hour of the Star by Clarice Lispector I don’t believe in kismet and I don’t believe in invisible strings. I don’t believe in 11:11s and dandelion wishes either, and I only pray on planes when the turbulence…

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