I have no sense of self. I have no personality, no brilliant color. I have nothing to offer. That’s always been my problem. I feel like an empty vessel. I have a shape, I guess, as a container, but there’s nothing inside.”…”Let’s say you are an empty vessel. So what? What’s wrong with that?” Eri said. “You’re still a wonderful, attractive vessel. And really, does anybody know who they are? So why not be a completely beautiful vessel? The kind people feel good about, the kind people want to entrust with precious belongings.
Haruki Murakami - Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage (via murakamistuff)

I try to understand but people are so foreign to me.

rapewhistled:

*16 year old girl voice* um shut the fuck up thanks

fantasticallyweirdshit:

godspeed you kitty cat cat

fantasticallyweirdshit:

godspeed you kitty cat cat