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Michael Cunningham, from “The Hours”

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i don't feel like talking so i write.

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oh to be a writer and live in europe

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i love studying. i love writing. i love reading. i love learning languages. i love doing mathematics. i love wandering over some particular sum and trying to come up with formulas to solve it. i love physics. i love biology. i love chemistry. i love history. i love literature. i love learning.

not to achieve the perfect grades ever. but it just amazes me that there's so much to know and learn and write and read about in the universe. my curiosity wouldn't get enough of it.

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drinking coffee and stargazing with you is my kinda hangout idea.

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My aesthetic is like dark academia but the medieval Iranian / Islamic golden age version

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Taylor Swift - Cardigan

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The Fourth Wall: A Rare View of Famous European Theater Auditoriums Photographed from the Stage

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to live. to live forever.

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In all her chaotic glory

Rich, opulent, affluent, wealthy,

They mean the same, they say

But no, not to her

Not to her tongue, that rolled around the letters

Not to her teeth that clenched at the stresses

Not to her lips the cuffed the words

In all her chaotic glory

She speaks to people with the same names

Listens to people of the same hearts

Taps her chin at people of the same faces

Narrows her eyes at people from the same places

In all her chaotic glory

She drapes her wrist over the fence

Pulses, throbs, thumps, and beats

Pounding in her heart, sensing a rustle, a flutter

She feels the veins behind her eyes aflame, alive;

hunting, prowling, sniffing for her muse.

Words from her lashes, dark as the moon’s shadow

Carve poetry-sweet nectar, stardust and words-

All conjured from the crevices of immortalized music,

Thumps of funeral beats,

Edges of flowers, vertices of tears

Shell of lips, curves of ears.

In all her chaotic glory

She watches, sees, observes, notices

The thrum of the hearth, echoes of the sea, the chambers of your soul

The god in your eyes

(poem is by me. pics are not)

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the heart knows

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She no longer feared what brewed within her, and she was done making apologies for who she was

— Adalyn Grace

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🍂🌬️📜

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