m i d t o w n s t o r i e s

"a non-writing writer is a monster courting insanity" ~ franz kafka 〰️ felice | xxiv | into words, academia & women 〰️ it has to be passionate or i don't want it.

[thewildetyme]

“What if I slept a little more and forgot about all this nonsense.”

— Franz Kafka

[dreamingtillmidnight]

post break-up mood

[artandchocolate]

Susan Sontag - “Death Kit”

[dreamingtillmidnight]

the state i am in

during night-time i got stung in the face and at many other places by a mosquito that also robbed me of my sleeping hours, then once again i had to organise things for my chaotic colleague that earns twice as much as me, i still got work to do for a job i actually had last autumn, and now i'm mad at a male 'friend' who seriously asked me for a ONS whilst knowing i'm very much into women

[dreamingtillmidnight]

The more honest my poems are, the worse they get.

I'll see Jeremiah again tomorrow, and it won't be like ever before, because now I've got a secret that won't get told in words. I don't have the intention to hurt him at all by telling him about the developments of the last six months, my memories will just be enough to withstand his huge waves of sorrow and harshness against himself. It's one fact that his parents hurt him both emotionally and physically, but a whole other thing that at age 30, he's still succumbing to that burden, neither seeking help nor even trying to escape the ghosts of his past. "I can't" was the statement that I've heard from him most throughout all those years, and exactly that's the point where our beliefs start diverging. He's already started walking with his shoulders bent down like an old man, and it just suits his general life motto so much: Bending and grieving instead of simply saying what he wants for once and thus ending up happier.

Maybe he secretly likes the pain more than its relief? I still remember the sadness lingering around his dark eyes when I met him for the first time, and his never-leaving bitter scent that made me almost sick after spending a day and night with him. He seems just to be waiting for the next disappointment - that'll inevitably come his way - , and before he doesn't start to stand up for himself, nobody else will be able to help him. Except maybe a therapist, but he's also preferred to have bitter fun fooling his former one instead of making use of this opportunity and opening up for once. I've come such a long way myself, and once, we - right there at the bus stop where we actually met for the first time - were both at the start of some personal development. But it also feels like I've grown on and on since those autumn days, while he's just stayed in his narrow bubble full of self-pity, unspoken words and denying oneself everything pleasant. He thinks life has to be painful, while I want it to be a hilarious yet intense movie that's directed by myself, and by now I know that there's nothing wrong with that. Things don't need to be sad and utterly heavy in order to be deep, and that comes from a #1 dark academia nerd.

What's more? At the moment, I'm fighting against the situation mentioned in the title, and in fact I'm sure it's just some weird in-between stage: I'm not sure enough of my objective status in the world yet to put it into tangible words. I know that my feelings are perfectly fine and comprehensible, but I just don't wanna waste any energy on things that might just be a child of sensory overload and sleep-deprivation. Which doesn't mean that I will keep silent in terms of poetry for much longer. After all, "a non-writing writer is a monster courting insanity" (Franz Kafka).

[dreamingtillmidnight]

she asked me whether i'd like to go to the museum with her, and i was so full of surprise and amazement that i broke my watch

[dreamingtillmidnight]

[wordsnquotes]

“serotinal”

— (sɪˈrɒt n l, ˌsɛr əˈtaɪn l, adjective) Serotinal is the most romantic and beautiful word pertaining to this time of year, alluding to or occurring in late summer. For example, the breezy, cool nights, the leaves on the ground, the earlier occurrence of the sunset and back to school season are all serotinal manifestations. They are the beginning markings of autumn in the form of summer nostalgia.  

[mysharona1987]

[lavender1955]

dark academia x summer

days in northern italy, nights in rome, white blouses, wine drunk at outdoor parties with eighties alt-rock a little too loud, gold jewelry, spending the day reading next to an open window, vintage 8mm cameras, beach coves, fire pits with friends, reading sappho, pomegranates, sweaters even if it’s eighty degrees, greece, bare faced with red lipstick, boys wearing ties around their heads during parties, being sent to your grandmother’s beach cottage, disheveled hair, broken glasses, researching cryptids and conspiracies until early hours of the morning with a few friends, button ups, sepia memories, writing your university friends, taking up new hobbies, learning a whole new language, spontaneous road trips, greek mythology, white wine, school skirts, a midsummer night’s dream, sun tea, wild flowers, skinny love, farmers markets, record players, traveling via train, somberly packing up to go back to campus in a leather suitcase.

[lovelyarcane]

i need friends in italy so we can make this happen

[tanrininprezervatifi-deactivate]

[dreamingtillmidnight]

just to hand in my old english literature essay some day, that’s what i’m currently surviving the heat for.

[dreamingtillmidnight]

i could hang about and burn my fingers i've been hanging out here waiting for something to start you think i'm faultless to a t my manner set impeccably but underneath i am the same as you

belle and sebastian

[genterie]

[dreamingtillmidnight]

just in general, what is is it actually about those dreams of mine recently? i also remember having had a long talk with Mr Higgins whom i was able to prove that my Welsh skills are actually not that poor if i really practise it. (i was really bad at this language throughout the whole semester, tired at the exam and by the way also half-drunk.) and now i got the grade for his subject, it’s the worst in my master’s degree yet, but still really nothing any reasonable student would worry about. and personally, i also don’t, as i’ve basically been a lazy ass at that time and place, there’ve been other things that attracted my attention by far more (such as going to the café for some beer with Nico and Nero right before.) i’ll attend his next course on Welsh again, show him that my head ain’t always as far up in the clouds as on some overheated summer afternoons in 2019, and it’ll be alright. i know my future self will agree with me.

right after, the next exam result, an A from the academic person i trust into the most. life’s actually not that bad as long as you ignore the Rebecca missing and Jeremy hurt parts of it that are basically consuming everything.

[doyourememberrocknrollradio]

Smokie - Living Next Door to Alice (Official Video)

[dreamingtillmidnight]

to tell her how i feel and maybe get a second glance.

her room is empty, while there was still some stuff in it last week. i thought i’d still have some time, but no, i didn’t, she 's taken it all with her just on the only day i hadn’t been here. and now i’m a love-sick mess, once again, and nobody can’t tell me how to bother with this, cause i simply can’t and that’s a serious state. i am not okay, just in case Sara with whom i’ll meet up for lunch might ask me, or anybody else in this dusty old town. it’s not the same as with her, and if the lesson should have been to freaking take my chances while they’re existent, i might actually have taken it. on another note, it’s rather scary that i’ve actually been dreaming about this emptiness (the literal one) on the weekend i unfortunately spent at home, even though i definitely couldn’t have known. but then again, i also dreamt of her being kidnapped, living in a cave and being part of a monk choir that only sang medieval spiritual songs, which would never be her, so maybe there’s still not that much to be frightened about. however, we haven’t been talking in almost a month, and still i know that i will be missing her for the rest of summer. that’s a mood, no need for questioning.

[dreamingtillmidnight]

and i don't want to forget how your voice sounds.

fall out boy

[metvmorqhoses]

it is of my firm belief that the best writing gives you the feeling that someone has reached into the deepest, loamiest depths of your heart and pulled out emotions and given them words for the first time. everyone in daps has done this for me at least once, if not many, many times. | ae.

i’m so grateful you put this feeling into words, i’ve felt like this now more times than i can count, and i owe it all to my amazing poets.

[autumn-fireside]

Helena Moore

[smalllhandwriting]

senior year had started and thank god i have only 4 classes !