hey google play ‘landslide’ by fleetwood mac until i figure out how i’m feeling thank you

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@proklisi
hey google play ‘landslide’ by fleetwood mac until i figure out how i’m feeling thank you
I am such a “huh” ass bitch. Lmao i got bad hearing sorry
listen I don’t “like” things, I either read a book/watch a show and forget 0.2 secs later or change my entire lifestyle based on what it was until I find something new
That strange feeling of longing when you are at a train station, in a 24/7 open market, when you are buying a coke from a vending machine, watching the city lights glow from your window, when you're walking aimlessly on a busy street after 5 pm, that feeling as if something is missing in your life and it will never come back although it was never there in the first place; that inexplicable urban sadness.
oh, to be the owner of a small bookshop on a cobblestone street with roses climbing the front of the building, where books are stacked about in piles and there’s always coffee brewing and a sleepy shop dog lifts his head at the sound of the door’s bell and thumps his tail against the hardwood
A patronus, Harry tells Hermione, is acing a test and the warmth of a butterbeer between your hands. It is your friends holding you when you fall, and Ron’s sparkling eyes when you whisper hi. And there’s an otter, swimming, and Hermione is blushing.
A patronus, Harry tells Ron, is Ginny’s shaky smile lighting up the world at the end of second year. It is winning the Quidditch World Cup, unwrapping yet another knitted jumper, and your startled surprise at the sight of Hermione punching Draco in the face. And there’s a dog, chasing the otter, and Ron is laughing.
A patronus, Harry tells Luna, is the feeling of starlight on your skin and grass between your bare toes. It is snow melting through your fingers, the magic your mother used to make, something singing in your heart when you stare at the impossible. And there’s a hare, jumping, and Luna is shining.
A patronus, Harry tells Cho, is Marietta shouting the lyrics of her favourite song, dancing in the rain during a storm. It is the look on Cedric’s face when he saw you at the Yule Ball, his hand holding yours and never letting go. And there’s a swan, sliding, and Cho is crying.
A patronus, Harry tells Seamus, is Dean’s funny expression when he is about to burst into laughter and the sound of a explosion that turns out right. It is the fireworks, bright flowers blossoming in the night sky; and the fire burning in your lungs as you fly. And there’s a fox, running, and Seamus is smirking.
A patronus, Harry tells Ginny, is the world expanding underneath you and the wind playing with your hair. It is dancing and laughing until there are tears on your cheeks, Molly’s disapproving voice and Arthur’s amused eyes after one of the twins’ pranks. And there’s a horse, flying, and Ginny is grinning.
A patronus, Harry thinks, is that weird feeling that lives in his chest when the Room of Requirement glows silver, speaking of times when the world was golden.
so far quarantine has been like *wakes up from a 5 hour nap* *reads a book* *wants to go out but can’t* *tries to be productive* *accidentally takes another nap* *watches a tv show i’ve already seen* *reads again* *feels hopeless* *cycles through the same 4 social media apps* *goes through settings on phone out of pure boredom* *experiences unbearable loneliness* *goes to bed*
Are you in a relationship?
I’m in quarantine
Le notti bianche, 1957
one rational braincell: there can be more than one task done during the day
all other braincells: you know what, now it’s zero
when someone thinks you’re cool
i procrastinate until it’s not even procrastinating anymore it’s just stupidity
“You are not lost. You are here. Stop abandoning yourself. Stop repeating this myth about love and success that will land in your lap or evade you forever. Build a humble, flawed life from the rubble, and cherish that. There is nothing more glorious on the face of the earth than someone who refuses to give up, who refuses to give in to their most self-hating, discouraged, disillusioned self, and instead learns, slowly and painfully, how to relish the feeling of building a hut in middle of the suffocating dust.”
— Ask Polly: Why Should I Keep Going? by Heather Havrilesky
“…I long so much to make beautiful things. But beautiful things require effort — and disappointment and perseverance.”
— Vincent van Gogh, “Letter to Theo van Gogh,” 9 Sept. 1882 (via afroui)
Like Real People Do by Hozier except on your headphones as you wait for the city bus during a rainstorm.
requested by @aestheticandpolitik
I will not wait for you
to regret losing me.
Does the sun wait for
the earth to regret turning?
Does the moon wait for
the night to regret ending?
The sun remains the sun,
and the moon remains the moon.
I will remain myself
with or without
your acknowledge of my value.
i personally love to over analyze everything and suffer