Me: why does god give me the hardest battles??
My hardest battles: no opportunity to escape to a small village to engage in tomfoolery with the local forest and river spirits and no sweet treat, apparently

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@mossykeats
Me: why does god give me the hardest battles??
My hardest battles: no opportunity to escape to a small village to engage in tomfoolery with the local forest and river spirits and no sweet treat, apparently
A bliss of solitude 🌬️🍃
from The New York Times
Oh how I'm longing for fuggy little classrooms, with chalky dust in the motionless air, on my constantly dry fingers, at the back of my throat. For eyes of students, eager for novelty and hungry for knowledge. For choosing a book for us to discuss, for new challenges and thrill that comes with them. Oh how I want to go back
La creatura
they dont want us to know this but the real cure to the agonies is to engage in shenanigans. tomfoolery even
How many aura points did I lose when I said "cubitum eamus?" and you said "what?" and I said "nothing"
For two things I am longing: you and eternal youth...
"I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. <...> I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet."
Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar
The gingery smell of dying summer lingered in the fresh morning air as I sat at the terrace wishing my blanket was a bit thicker. My fingers trembling and grey, my hair damp and wild after the hunt. Summer's body flinched for the last time and lay still beside the front porch. I threw the dagger into hazelnut bushes. Autumn will be pleased
I dug out a hole in the lake bed to plant my tired and sorrow ridden heart in hopes that it grows into a waterplant and ties your feet next summer when you go swimming again.
— joy sullivan
*rips her chest open and takes her heart out*
This is my meal, I call it ✨ girl dinner ✨
The Druids’ Temple | GarettPhotography
In those last bittersweet days of August (if you wake up early enough), you can catch the glimpse of Persephone walking down every beam of cooling sun and every drying flower spike. Don't try to stop her though, she misses her lover - only Gods and the dead know how very terrible she is in her anger.
Are you the main character or thier love interest or their sidekick? Nah, I'm the character that's mentioned once - no fanarts, no headcanons, no ships - but I promise I will be fine.
Sorry I didn't text you back. I was lying in the tall dry grass in the numbing heat of August hoping I could just disappear.