I write differently from what I speak, I speak differently from what I think, I think differently from the way I ought to think, and so it all proceeds into deepest darkness.
i made this shitty embroidery the other day when i was sitting outside in the rain having a panic attack. i don’t really know what i meant but i know it’s true. right now my life feels a bit like the wrong side of the embroidery and nothing quite makes sense.
I fucking love this
German newspaper FAZ about Benedict Cumberbatch
[translation by Moriarty’s Skull]