I don’t think people realise how hard it is to re-discover the person you were before depression or even try to remember your own personality
Lover, will you look at me now? I’m already dead to you, but I’m inclined to explain what I could not before..
A part of us remains wherever we have been.
I love that sweet smell of decay that surrounds me in forests and woods. A kind of mulchy, deep, rich rot that has no connotation of death or ending, but rather of life and age. A sense of perpetual destruction and rebirth."Unknown (via meditationsinwonderland)