the stars claim everyone eventually

poetry is dangerous. be careful, sweet, be careful.

[softlyintothemist]

i feel so full of magic that i swear one day i’ll scream and stories will come pouring out.

[softlyintothemist]

i’m restless, is the problem

restless for the solid feeling of knowing what i’m doing and that i like it

that my decisions have been good and i’m ok

not because things are bad but because i’m suspicious

that if things are going well i’ll mess it up —

one wrong step and everything goes off track again.

i’m restless for the wind that’s currently dampened by rain

restless for the afternoon light that’s currently halfway around the world

restless for that feeling not just of surety but contentment

the bounding off the pavement as i run

leaves crunching and scattering as the autumn light grows supple and gold

fading with the fastness of the late year

so that the day that was full and blue when i first left

has gone half twilight and half home when i return.

[spookykrennic-deactivated201710]

‘You’re a storyteller. Dream up something wild and improbable,’ she pleaded. ‘Something beautiful and full of monsters.’ ‘Beautiful and full of monsters?’ 'All the best stories are.’

Strange the Dreamer, Laini Taylor (via orsonkraennic)

[weltenwellen]

what can i do when the night comes and i break into stars.

nayyirah waheed, from salt, osmosis (via weltenwellen)

[softlyintothemist]

hold your breath. ok. like this: breathe into your hands until they're full until you're overflowing to your fingertips with life and you can feel a little bit of heartbeat that leaked out fluttering against your skin warm, like this, and full. hold it until it's drained away like grains of sand and breathe back in.

[softlyintothemist]

Residents of the Library: A Practical Guide for New Librarians

The books

Not to be disturbed unless there is an emergency

The shelves

Ask politely before attempting to clean, some are exceedingly fond of their dust

The woman in the reference section who is perpetually searching for a certain unknown volume

She will always refuse to tell you which one it is, but it’s good manners to ask her a few times a day anyway

The cat with five eyes

We recognize that this terminology can be confusing, as there are at least a dozen of the cat with five eyes living in the library, but each of them insists on being treated as though they’re the only one. Therefore, each of them is The Cat With Five Eyes

Unidentified cryptid

Possibly just The Cat With Five Eyes pulling a prank

The lost child

At this point we must assume, as the child has not aged or been picked up for several years, that it is not so much lost as it is stuck. In the meantime, until its parent returns, it must be placated hourly with new picture books or tantrums will be thrown

Library patron

??????????

The helpful ghost

A benevolent presence that keeps trying to help shelve books and putting them back in the wrong place. Actually exceedingly unhelpful, but the title makes it so happy

The Stacks Goblin

DO NOT offer food!

Shame on you, there’s no food allowed in the library anyway.

[ardentlythieving]

@beewo this seems useful for you to know.

[wickedlittlecritta]

@edderkopper

[witchbrarian]

There’s a class on these folks in library school. It’s held in the basement and the instructor never shows up but somehow I got an A on the final.

[neonprotagonist]

new idea: hell chess

all the basic rules are the same like playstyle wise

trash talking is encouraged

you get as much time as you need but if you look away from the board your turn is over

the referee is yelling everything like a sports announcer and you cannot complain

you can take one of your pieces from the board and throw it at your opponents head but you sacrifice that piece

you have to name the king and queen something

fun additives to make the game unique:

a. close your eyes and reach into a bag of about 48 chess pieces to pull out your sixteen pieces. whatever you get is what you play and you must follow the rules of those chess pieces. if you get four queens good luck. if you get no queens good luck

b. the referee can decide to throw in as many checkers pieces as a time as they please, as long as equal pieces are distributed to both players. the players are now not only playing chess but also checkers on the same board.

[leedoesotherstuff-deactivated20]

my kinda chess

[jofar]

“your skin smells like light. i think you are the moon.”

- nayyirah waheed

[thequotejournals]

“I would love to say that you make me weak in the knees but to be quite upfront and completely truthful you make my body forget it has knees at all.

Tyler Knott Gregson, Love Language (via literary-hack)

[softlyintothemist]

How To Be a Writer

your veins are filled with ink

stories float to the surface of your skin like monsters rising from the depths of the ocean

blood is thicker than ink is thicker than water

you are made of all of these and they wage war in every crevice of your skin

the lines of your palm writhe with anger

write me. write me. bring me to life.

you are alive and they are not

they would steal you away in pieces if they could

fingers. eyes. heart.

build themselves a body and leave, as if stories would not grow stories of their own and be stolen away in turn

stories are angry. jealous. selfish.

this is because they bloomed from whatever soil they could find in you

there is no one to say you yourself are not a story who built itself a body and escaped.

[mystrangesilhouettesblog-deacti]

She has the moon in her mind, that’s why stars spill off her lips.

Camille. -s.p.  (via paternalpadfoot)

[softlyintothemist]

How To Be a Writer

your veins are filled with ink

stories float to the surface of your skin like monsters rising from the depths of the ocean

blood is thicker than ink is thicker than water

you are made of all of these and they wage war in every crevice of your skin

the lines of your palm writhe with anger

write me. write me. bring me to life.

you are alive and they are not

they would steal you away in pieces if they could

fingers. eyes. heart.

build themselves a body and leave, as if stories would not grow stories of their own and be stolen away in turn

stories are angry. jealous. selfish.

this is because they bloomed from whatever soil they could find in you

there is no one to say you yourself are not a story who built itself a body and escaped.

[wherechalkwhitearrowsgo-deactiv]

I can’t abandon the person I used to be so I carry her

365 Days of Haiku, Day #123 (via kassapti)

This is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever read.

(via mama-macabre)

I tell people I don’t regret any of my tattoos. This is why.

(via inkedscribbles)

[softlyintothemist]

So when I get angry, when I'm furious, I remind myself that there are stories in the lines of my palms, and no matter how much I'd like to punch someone, I won't crush those stories in my fists for anyone.

Too precious to ruin yet

[softlyintothemist]

it’s just that i’m pouring myself out, right? trying to fill all these things with me. trying to surround myself with more of myself. but it never holds. everything i pour out sloshes out of every vessel i try to hold it in and goes, somewhere, somewhere i can’t get it back from. can’t really fix that. i just have to hope that what i think right now is lost, rain sinking into dry dirt, is watering a garden of me that i’ll get later. someday i’ll wake up and be surrounded by what grew from the pieces of me that got lost along the way.

[quietpinetrees]

“On burning worlds he longed for chill wind and soft rain. From his lamentations, aliens assumed he was in love with someone named September.” -QuietPineTrees

[quietpinetrees]

“She grew apples in caves, gently spreading starlight on their leaves. The cider was the only way she could forget how much she missed space.” -QuietPineTrees