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#dark acedamia
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justshareefastuff · 2 months
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All the famous study methods explained—𝗠𝗻𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗰𝘀:
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deadpoets7radhika · 1 year
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Have you ever sat in a library reading forbidden books after the dark and see a man sneaking in the library, wet and breathing hard and then you realize he looks like one of the characters of the book you were just reading? I have not and I'm sad about it!
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How do I become a journaling/poetry/writing girly? I have so many thoughts, and i basically write in my head, but it's always so hard to get it onto paper!.!.!
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shrimpscrawling · 11 months
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One of my favourite enrichment activities is writing my unsettling little horror novels before bed and then laying awake all night wondering why I’m vibrating with anxiety
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jaxxrabbie · 10 months
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I want to feel alive-
a phrase I’m scared I will say until the day I die.
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crierayla543 · 1 year
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Death of poetry
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lex-the-mockingbird · 10 months
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~Remus Lupin Moodboard!~
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Images found from Pinterest🤎
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candlelit-acedamia · 2 years
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rettystor · 7 months
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what is this thing called desire? a weapon
desire, to me, is your eyes meeting mine; caramel to hazel, meant to be.
all of them listening to me, my voice mattering. a friend that thinks of you as a friend. a loved one with the strength to carry everything I force onto the table. care when i'm not okay, especially when i'm not okay. knowing the hurt within me without my eyes sprouting into clarity. the book you got me, the penciled footnotes (because that's all I am in your life). skipping rocks into nothingness, protecting them from this world. safety — assurance — happiness undoing shackles (be colorful, do crime).
desire to me is a fight, a war against myself to find necessity. my eyes, heart and brain bleed gallons until I can't see, feel, or think of anything anymore.
desire to you is longing, to me, desire is my entire being.
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shaheed-e-lutf · 10 months
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Translation of a small part of poem by Faiz.
Woven in silk and stain and brocade,
those dark and brutal curses of countless centuries:
bodies bathed in blood, smeared with dust,
sold from market-place to market-place,
bodies risen from the cauldron of disease
pus dripping from their festering sores-
my eyes must also turn to these,
You're beautiful still, my love
but I am helpless too;
for there are other sorrow in the world than love,
and other pleasures too.
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justshareefastuff · 7 months
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not knowing much about something is okay. it is not a bad thing.
use this as an opportunity to learn something new.
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deadpoets7radhika · 2 years
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My mother said not to go out in rain but little did she realize her daughter wailed and screamed along with the clouds and does not fear the biggest storm for she knows it was there to protect her.
-Radhika
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¤•◎◎°⁰°¤ Hermes moodboard ¤°⁰°◎◎•¤
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shrimpscrawling · 11 months
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Spent the first half of my 21st birthday, bra-less in Bohemia and very drunk. I feel like this is what I was made for
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