Lib-er-tine

one who does not restrain his desires or appetite; a debauchee

la douleur exquise

I'm sorry to cut in like this with another quote, it's just that other people's words simply fit in so well..They just say it better than I could. And I feel it this way, and it's real. So, when my words fail..
"Pain is strange. A cat killing a bird, a car accident, a fire…. Pain arrives, BANG, and there it is, it sits on you. It’s real. And to anybody watching, you look foolish. Like you’ve suddenly become an idiot. There’s no cure for it unless you know somebody who understands how you feel, and knows how to help."-Charles Bukowski
Mind you, I'm not trying to adopt their view of the world, although I assimilate it, it's fucking inspiration. It's a bit unoriginal, but I try to be real.
But actually the point of me writing this was to thank somebody. Let's face it, I'm brainsick, I'm often cast aside because of my self-destructive way of complicating everything..thank you for understanding, thank you for being there at all times. Too often I underestimate you, and right now, I'm so happy, there's no more room for my forsaken ghosts.

"Don't you just love New Years? You get to start all over. Everybody gets a second chance."

-Forrest Gump

toska

(russian) upset or pain, anguish, distress. the adjective toskliviy is translated as "dismal", "dreary".

“No single word in English renders all the shades of toska. At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause. At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. In particular cases it may be the desire for somebody of something specific, nostalgia, love-sickness. At the lowest level it grades into ennui, boredom.”
-V. Nabokov

"Once a year, she remembers that she is insignificant. Then she forgets again, because more than she is insignificant, she is forgetful."


hypnotic

The catcher

"Among other things, you’ll find that you’re not the first person who was ever confused and frightened and even sickened by human behavior. You’re by no means alone on that score, you’ll be excited and stimulated to know. Many, many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now. Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles. You’ll learn from them — if you want to. Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you. It’s a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. And it isn’t education. It’s history. It’s poetry."- The Catcher in the Rye

and the Ass saw the Angel

"And in this lavender hell ah lay, upon a bed of tangled vine, and all the spinning webs did leave a sticky grey veil about mah face. And when she did appear, floating above all the desecration, her pinions fanned the scattered offerings up into a pile of hair and skin and bone, of paper and ash, of feather, tooth and nail, of blood and rags, and fractured glass and consumed them all in sudden fire that leaped and licked the tips of her wings and crackled unnerfoot. And though the hood of web masked mah eyes, ah could see the sad and sultry aspect of her face, and her hair worn loose, and her damp, swelling breasts, her painted lips and nails and her heavy-lidded eyes - and though mah ears were wraped in web, ah could hear her slow breathing and the lazy turn of her words as she told me that ah must know mah enemy. "

J.Green

"What is an ‘instant death’ anyway? How long is an instant? Is it one second? Ten? The pain of those seconds must have been awful as her heart burst and her lungs collapsed and there was no air and no blood to her brain and only raw panic. What the hell is an instant? Nothing is instant. Instant rice takes 5 minutes, instant pudding an hour. I doubt that an instant of blinding pain feels particularly instantaneous."