“In the fields, everything was wet, and waiting. Everything was waiting. My footsteps were so loud in the silence, walking all alone along the road, and I was so sad because I knew that everything was waiting, but not for me.”— Jean Anouilh, Antigone (tr. by Zander Teller), 1944
I want to wake up and smell the cold forest air, I want to feel the soft moss under my bare feet as I sip tea. I don’t want to worry about what time it is or whats going to happen next. I just want to be.
(via nagsyl)
