Ask me anything
I can’t deal with this. I just can’t. It’s like a thousand spears piercing through my heart. I can’t deal with this. I can’t. I don’t know how.
I must be going mad. The slightest thing triggers me off and sends me into a crazy rage. The things that happened were so insignificant and minute, and i knew they were, but i couldn’t control my reaction. I could only think of inflicting pain on myself. Where and how. My mind’s screwed up. Something inside me is rotten and damaged. Beyond repair.
“ Silence carries your name; it glows in the dark over my grey-blue dreams. ”
Virginia Woolf, from a letter to Vita Sackville-West dated 23 October 1927. (via violentwavesofemotion)
Marilyn photographed applying her make up by Sam Shaw in September 1954.