An irrational affinity for objects, photographs, illustrations, paintings, posters, thoughts, designs, books covers, comics, quotes, tunes, poems, videos... When any such highly interesting thing is seen by the sufferer it often may induce a compulsive need to claim it and several minutes of staring at said object on the screen. Which will then lead to her pocketing the object to add to her collection on Tumblr.
***This is just a showcase for the things I fall in love with, I don't claim any ownership, to all of them, please ask me to remove what ever you feel belongs exclusively to you to display.
Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I’ll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase “each other” doesn’t make any sense.
“Real isn’t how you are made,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.’
'Does it hurt?' asked the Rabbit.
'Sometimes,' said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. 'When you are Real you don't mind being hurt.'
'Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,' he asked, 'or bit by bit?'
'It doesn't happen all at once,' said the Skin Horse. 'You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.”"