libertine


Elisa lives in a treehouse in Havana. All her possessions are in a book safe at a library in Amsterdam.
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This might have been the most depressing trip to Rhode Island I’ve had in a good while. It made me realize how I think it would be the worst thing for me to move up here. Toxicity, everywhere. I love Providence, but I’m too poor to live in the city. I would really like to live alone or with minimal roomie contact (no offense to hypothetical roomie but I hate people). I really need to live somewhere completely new. I spent all afternoon researching places to live and ended up with the fact that I’m way too poor to live alone in another state. 
Also, depression part deux, I am a failure. I don’t care what people will say to contest it, I am. That whole speech of, “sometimes there are bumps in the road blah-blah-blah.” BULLSHIT. I fucked up and I know I did and I can’t change it and now I’m fucked. I fucked myself so hard that I don’t think I will ever get to do what I want. 
I’m so sad right now. Just really defeated and sad. And I don’t really like venting on Tumblr but I just don’t have any other outlet right now that I feel comfortable approaching. 

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it’s that kind of day.

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gpoy of me and eli (and our imaginary twin friends)

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