[firstfullmoon]

Falling in love can be an isolating act, even if another person is present while it is happening. It’s all so interior, based on many moving parts and internalized messiness. It isn’t always like this, of course. But when it has been like that for me, I’ve come out of it happily exhausted, wondering why anyone would want to do this more than once in a lifetime. But, of course, when whatever love I’ve claimed fades, I find myself renewed, in search of the feeling once again. I have found ways to renew it even while still in love. Last fall, there was a point where I had a crush on the leaves, for all their twirling and kaleidoscopic showing off. I have a crush on the first few days of daylight saving time in either direction, when the sun does a real generosity and tricks me into staying out longer and later. Or, when it abruptly exits early, reminding me to bow to my true self. I have a crush on the way the familiar buildings of Columbus, Ohio, poke their faces through a puffy wall of clouds when I descend into the city after being away for too long, and it is always too long. I have a crush on too many sentences in too many books by too many people to name. Since I have already decided that sweat is romantic, friends, let me say that I also have a crush on the feeling of night air cooling the sweat off skin when a body pours out of a hot and packed space. I am beginning to have a crush on crystals, I think. Definitely obsidian, but perhaps a few of the others that look like miniature caves. And, yes, I have a crush on memories that were surely not as beautiful as I have made them out to be. Because that’s the whole trick. I’ve had crushes on all my friends, and if they don’t have one back on me that’s fine because I’m still going to text them at unfortunate and odd hours of the day with some useless miracle that I couldn’t possibly keep to myself. So few of my crushes speak back. I am cultivating my comfort with unanswered desires, and it is going well. I have room for so much more. I say a prayer. I fall in love.

— Hanif Abdurraqib, from “On Summer Crushing,” in The Paris Review

[heavensickness]

there is not a single day i don't think about this quote in relation to tragedies

[araekniarchive]

Aeschylus, The Oresteia

[onlyloverleft]

Richard Siken, Planet of Love

[listentothepages]

The Lumineers, Cleopatra

[butternaan]

@olreid

[poeticque]

An annotated book carries the presence of others. They bring your attention to specific things, to their views, to what they managed to feel from it. I can think of few intimacies like that, sharing what encountered others, what was felt.

[264571956-deactivated20210621]

on childhood friendship: (1) / (2) / (3, 4) night in the woods (2017) / (5) / (6) / (7)  p.s. i still love you, jenny han

[minotauri]

stand by me (1986)

[inkskinned]

i am reminded by a professor - once a person leaves, you will never love like that again.

how wonderful. i will love in a new way each time, then, for new reasons. i will find out that my heart never had a limit on joy. i will know new things.

he says - we can never find our way back to loving the same way twice.

i am not the same person from before, though, am i? why would i want to take a tour of my life through the same eyes? why would i want to hold the same figure-eight? why would i come back to what has already been shoved through my throat? why wouldn't i want to walk in a new garden, with new stones?

it is also never the same sunset twice. the same thunderstorm. the same birdsong. life, in little chaos, holds no ghosts. i will love again, and thank god, it will be different. i move on, and the world says - you will meet someone else, who knows a different way to listen. and when i put my ears against the music again, it will feel like i am understanding a new set of secrets.

how wonderful. my love does not run out. it is remade and recolored and unstained in doubt. gold hair, coffee, the shape of her mouth.

[hicetubiquee]

dresses by charles james, 1948, photograph by cecil beaton // 'bal blanc', 1903, joseph-marius jean avy

[hamletteprinceofdenmark]

Thinking big thoughts about how the person we know collectively in Greek mythology as The Minotaur was an innocent child who grew up rejected and isolated due SOLEY to his father’s crimes and we don’t know his real name or if he even had one.

[jewishhamlet]

it’s been said before but fortinbras pov really is the funniest thing. imagine you’re waging war on some country because their old king killed your dad and then you walk into their throne room and there’s 4 dead bodies and one guy who instantly says “i can explain”

[jewishhamlet]

hamlet act 5 scene 3 horatio goes to prison

[notjustanyboggs]

So one of the first professional Shakespeare productions I saw was a NYC Shakespeare in the Park production of Hamlet. It was set in modern-esque times with a heavy military flavor. So we get to the end, and in comes Fortinbras and his his army; I didn’t realize at the time how rare it is for a production to even have this scene because who doesn’t want to end with grieving Horatio in a tragic tableau, y’know? But so in comes Fortinbras, and Horatio saying he has such a tale of woe to tell him, and Fortinbras says his yeah, sure, I’ll listen. So he gestures Horatio to walk ahead of him, and then turns to his guards and makes almost an off-hand gesture, and the guard Shoots Horatio In The Head And He Falls To The Ground Dead.

Fucked. Me. Up.

[macbcth]

i like to believe that ophelia’s madness gave her a kind of meta knowledge of the plot— that she saw the tragic ending coming, knew that hamlet’s indecision would be his hamartia, that she realised gertrude and claudius were both poisoned with corruption from the beginning and instead of the customary funeral goers laying flowers at a grave, it was Ophelia— mad, at death’s door, about to die in less than 2 scenes— who handed flowers to the king, queen and protagonist as if the dead girl was mourning the living

[deadpoetwilde]

as a gay person my self-confidence is inherently linked to the amount of validation i get from my english teacher

[deadpoetwilde]

everyone adding they also need validation from their history teacher is so right ,, one time my history teacher asked me something and i didn't realize he was looking at me so i didn't reply and it still haunts me when sleep fails to come in the dark hours of the night

[thewildetyme-deactivated2021020]

i annote books for fun and that knowledge itself should give away the fact that i am not okay.

[yeeting-across-the-styx-deactiv]

Dark Academia: disaster bisexual edition

Being in love with Boris from the goldfinch

Reading Shakespeare and Sappho by the light of your candles and crying because you’ll forever be alone

Wearing your most aesthetic outfits and sitting on benches at local parks while reading classical literature so you can attract all the gays in your vicinity

Attesting adamantly that Hamlet and Horacio were literally in love like how do you not see it, Hamlets death scene was not JUST FRIENDSHIP

Wanting a girlfriend you meet in a library in the afternoon as you’re both reaching for the same book and end up discussing your taste in music and literature

Wanting a boy who goes all Studio Ghibli Whisper of the Heart on you like Seiji Amasawa (for those of you who have not seen this masterpiece GO WATCH IT. Basically the boy checks out all the books he thinks the girl will read before her so she notices his name on the little library card thing)

Wanting a cute partner who you meet online *hint hint* who shares different interests than you but you both can talk for hours about what makes you feel passionate and you always listen to what the other has to say

Wanting Rosalind from As You Like It to top you. Enough said

Attempting to cuff your plaid trousers and failing miserably

Quoting Emily Dickinson like it will make all of your problems go away

Crying over the song of Achilles bc it’s so beautiful and fuckkkk why is it so sad

Listening to Chopin’s nocturnes on repeat while trying on new outfits

Reading H.P. Lovecraft and Edgar Allan Poe to try and be edgy when you go through your emo phase of academia (we all do tbh)

Picking tweed over flannel but the choice still haunting you to this day

Writing poems with fountain pens to put on your walls

Drafting love letters to all of your forgotten crushes that you are never going to send

Going into sad boi hours because you can’t find a significant other who will hold you and listen to your tirades about Nabokov’s Pale Fire

[la-petitefille-deactivated20210]

sweet little aesthetics: dark academia ♡

~ keeping a black notebook filled with observations, doodles, poetry fragments, and quotes to remember

~ the otherworldly smell of old books and fresh coffee

~ loafer shoes, single lapel pins, and cozy sweaters

~ drinking a cup of hot tea whilst listening to Chopin or Simon & Garfunkel

~ taking in the rain droplets as they fall upon the windows

~ watching historical documentaries or period pieces on a beautifully cloudy day

~ a brown messenger bag filled with notebooks, black-ink pens, train or bus tickets, and stamps

~ decorating your walls with old maps, ticket stubs, polaroids, and vintage postcards

~ reading mary shelley, richard siken, oscar wilde, donna tartt, or edgar allan poe in the park

~ book collecting, to-do list writing, black candle lighting, café sitting, and people watching

[yeetmeoffthisplanet]

"Fuck you, my child is completely fine"

ma'am your child is an English major

[monsterhospital]

in light of the [second book of the dreamer trilogy] cover+name coming out, i decided to reimagine the raven cycle covers! i always thought they were so ugly lol

also, yes, i did re-write the bllb summary, the original one focused on blue but bllb is adam’s book and he deserves his name on the back

all the pics can be found on my trc pinterest board 

[anneuhken-deactivated20200828]

my kid has started to write stories and like, no lies, they’re funny as fuck

[anneuhken-deactivated20200828]

actual dialogue:

“to your battle stations, boys! it’s time to line up and see who’s tall enough for the roller coaster to hell!! some of us may not survive this, but the ones that do will get the ultimate reward.... paid.”

[anneuhken-deactivated20200828]

“here’s a penny for your thoughts, and a quarter to not tell me them”

B A B E

[anneuhken-deactivated20200828]

“everyone knows those quiet girls. the ones who never say anything at school unless a teacher makes them. the ones who you see every day but don’t know what they sound like when they laugh. lindsey is not one of those girls, but the teacher wishes she was.”

[anneuhken-deactivated20200828]

“lindsey was always loud, especially when she was being kind. she didn’t smile at people to make them happier, she screamed all the reasons they shouldn’t be sad. it was hard not to listen.”

i can’t wait to read this book tbh

[thebluestockingfirefly]

How to write a story (according to 11-year-old me, c. 1999)

1. Get a pencil (preferably one with lead in it) and a piece of blank, lined notebook paper.

2. Sit down on a chair or a stool in front of a desk or table. 

3. Put your paper and pencil flat on the desk.

4. Clear your mind of any distractions.

5. On your piece of paper, use the pencil to write down the first thing that comes into your head.

6. If you don’t like the thought once it’s on paper, use the pencil to scratch it out. Start again at step 4 and proceed to step 5, going to 6 if you still don’t like the idea.

7. When you have an idea you like, begin writing on your paper with your pencil.

8. Don’t worry about names for people, or places. Those will come later.

9. The thought should flow freely from pencil to paper.

10. If you get stuck, put your pencil down, take a break, and come back later.

11. The end result should be something you like, something that sounds good to you.