i really do live for the aesthetic huh. my night:
translating horace at midnight, empty teacups surrounding me, endless piles of used books covering every available surface, the faint hum of the heater, the chill of the winter night creeping through the walls, an empty bottle of champagne on the bookshelf above my desk, a cheap fountain pen, red ink stains on my fingers, a thick knit sweater to keep the cold at bay









