Like this post
Like this post
Like this post
Like this post
Like this post
Like this post
Like this post
Like this post
Like this post
Like this post
Like this post
I felt like crying but nothing came out. it was just a sort of sad sickness, sick sad, when you can’t feel any worse. I think you know it. I think everybody knows it now and then. but I think I have known it pretty often, too often. Charles Bukowski, Tales of Ordinary Madness (via loveandeloquence)

(via vi0lettae)

23,290 notes
Like this post
Like this post
Like this post