Worrying is carrying tomorrow’s load with today’s strength—carrying two days at once. It is moving into tomorrow ahead of time. Worrying doesn’t empty tomorrow of its sorrow, it empties today of its strength.
— Someone keep reminding me of this, as I worry at least 5 years into the future every day. That’s a lot of days.
I’ve had a wonderful weekend with my love, based to a My Bloody Valentine soundtrack consisting of the entirety of Loveless, some Isn’t Anything, Sunny Sundae Smile, tracks from their rarities, and the New Record by MBV. This song particularly strikes me today.
I’m in one of those moods; the kind where you can’t help but listen to one song on repeat for hours at a time because it strikes you to the core, reaches inside your chest and pummels your heart, chills your bones, haunts you with beautiful lyrics that puncture your skull so all your tears escape, fleeing with them secret pain and deep desires. It’s a song you once fell in love with the moment it caressed your ears, a song that you listen to over and over again in hope that it will release you from everything—sadness, dullness, pessimism, anxiety, fear—with each loop. From everything. From yourself.
Hauntingly lovely music you wish will crush your very soul so a new you, a better you, an (almost) pain-free you, can emerge from the collapsed grim particles of fire and ice.
A not so simple melody and harmony to free each and everyone of your cells from the reign of your dangerous mind, the deceitful master of perception.
With each replay, take my soul, cleanse my mind, free me from my self…
-That kind of mood.
Try not to be so hard on yourself. It’ll be okay.
Try not to be so hard on yourself. It’ll be okay.
Try not to be so hard on yourself. It’ll be okay.
Try not to be so hard on yourself. It’ll be okay.
Try not to be so hard on yourself. It’ll be okay.
Try not to be so hard on yourself. It’ll be okay.
Try not to be so hard on yourself. It’ll be okay.
Well if that ain’t the truth


