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ellie-makes-mbs · 4 months

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name moodboard for “emily” for anonymous

#a true work of art//moodboard #sparks of creativity//my work #moodboard #aesthetic #mb #writer academia #dark academia #green academia #academia aesthetic #autumn aesthetic #classic academia #cafe aesthetic #do you not know that a man is not dead when his name is still spoken//name mb #speaking through another//request

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anotherstudybrownie · 1 year

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I wish my life looked like this.

#dark aesthetic #dark academia #dark academia aesthetic #life #romantizing #romantize your life #book aesthetic #books #booksbooksbooks #library #academia aesthetic #writer academia #moodboard #dark academia moodboard #dark academia vibes #studyblr #productivity

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edwardian-masquerade · 8 months

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"Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation." -Oscar Wilde

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ceramicteapot · 1 year

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Somedays, it’s easy to be full of energy. It’s easy to leave your sheets, brush your teeth, pick out an outfit, call your mother. You’d switch your laptop on, open a document for school or work, and boom, time dilutes and dissolves. Hours go by and even if you did not get too much done, you know you tried.

But what about the days when it doesn’t happen? What about when you cancel plans with a friend to check out that cafe they were interested in just because you’re bone tired? You didn’t do much physically, you just are.

And how do you explain that to your friend?

What about the days you mindlessly scroll down your social media even when the lines on your forehead spell out deadlines? How do you feel?

Personally, I am consumed by guilt on such days. Feelings of being insufficient, of “wasting away” my days settle in my gut and refuse to leave. I’d like to know if you feel that way too.

If you do, you’re not alone. We always talk about our accolades, the merit we made for ourselves, the hilltop we conquered, the fort we acquired. Let’s talk a bit about the steps we missed, the peaks we couldn’t see, the time we let slip from in between our fingers, just because it could slip. Just because we wouldn’t stop it. Just because it wouldn’t stop for us either.

Pause with me for a bit. Fill up your lungs with a long breath that I know you haven’t taken in a while. Listen to me.

You are worthy, even if all you did today was get out of bed.

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janthewriter · 4 months

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I Am Tired

I am tired of feeling unloved.

I do not think anybody could ever love an unusual creature of perpetual habit like me. Only can they become intrigued with fascination of the unknown. Digging and prodding, only to yield no answers, fueling their anger until they move on to next best thing of existence, one that will gift them with the satisfaction they do hungrily desire.

I am tired of feeling this way.

My mind takes me to the dungeons of a Victorian castle in some frightful place unknown. Even the moonlight raises no hope against this stand of darkness within. I can never seem to escape the shackles. I must free myself. I must free my brain from it’s cranium. And then maybe I will finally be set free at last.

I am tired of the hollow emptiness.

It almost feels as if there is nobody else out here in this void of darkness. I call out, echoes of silence are my only answer in return. I turn mute. Only to match the peaceful, yet painful silence, that I am forever engulfed in.

I am tired of feeling trapped.

I wish I could free myself from this labyrinth, that I somehow found myself stumbling into. The birdcage in my chest that encloses a beautiful bluejay, feels punctured with every breath, being poked and prodded for amusement.

I am tired of breathing.

I breath, just for the oxygen to be sucked out of my lungs through the mouth of a lover, into the infinite space unknown. It is pointless, I shall take shallow breaths until my breathing diminishes altogether; this way it can never be stolen at the hands of a thief needy for more, again.

I am tired of seeing the good.

It becomes painfully hard to see the good, when I can only feel the bad. My eyes are the most diligent. They never fail at accomplishing to deceive me with enticements that are almost up for no refusal. I know better to believe the sweet lies that my eyes show me, telling me all is well. Almost nothing in this world is.

I am tired of fighting.

I am strong and indestructible, until I am not. I become so weak and fragile that with every step I take, my bones creak, revealing my hand of vulnerability. My armor has become too heavy, my arms to weak. Tears cascade down the calming silver onto the battle ground. Fighting has become pointless. It is not in my favor. But someone must win the battle. This war must end eventually.

I am tired of only being seen externally.

My body has nothing left to give. I have ripped every organ out with my bare hands, just to serve them on a silver platter to the greedy. I have given almost everything away, but no one has accepted my heart yet. Seek pity on me and just take what’s left of my heart and make it yours.

I am tired of this torturous day to day life.

A good day only seems to stare at me with wide eyes, extending it’s hand. I reach out in acceptance, thinking greatness is to be bestowed upon me, at last. I am deceived into receiving the small left over bread crumbs called inconvenience. I watch as the the latter is passed on to the next one in line awaiting the opportunity of delight.

I can’t do this much longer.

I am just really really tired.

~Jan

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darkestpoet · 2 months

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I think too much. To rip out my soul and be free from it for once is my desire. But I can't. So I'll write,I'll read. I'll bleed onto paper with ink. I'll scream into my books.

#spilled ink #dark academia #dark acadamia aesthetic #dark academism #chaotic academia #academia aesthetic #academia style #academia quotes #light academia #darkest academia #original poem #writer academia

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littlemisslikestoread · 5 months

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Do authors and poets ever think before writing, that their works may one day be poorly analysed by the media and overanalysd by under paid teachers till it loses it's meaning and then be used as a basis upon which to give grades?

#girlblogging #rory gilmore aesthetic #delusional #lana del rey aesthetic #this is what makes us girls #hell is a teenage girl #shitpost #bookworm rants #bookblr #chaotic academia #writer academia #classic academia #this is a girl blog

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theambisinistrousquainterelle · 3 months

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Jane Eyre, part II

Is mr Rochester slightly problematic? Yes. Jane? Yes, her too. Does it prevent me from enjoying the book ? No.

“’I am not an angel,’ I asserted; ‘and I will not be one till I die: I will be myself. Mr. Rochester, you must neither expect nor exact anything celestial of me–for you will not get it, any more than I shall get it of you: which I do not at all anticipate.’”

Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë

#moodboard #aesthetic #art #chaotic academia #art academia #classics #literature #books #reading #charlotte brontë #jane eyre #quotes #writing #poets and writers #academia #writer academia #aesthetics

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intellectual6666 · 2 months

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Slowly, the summer is coming. Slowly the water in the water bottle is coming back to normal temperature. Slowly the small droplet of sweat is swimming down from the forehead. Slowly the sweaters are going inside the storage trunks. Slowly the taazi matar paneer is turning into only matar ki sabzi. Slowly the sleeveless loose t-shirts are coming back from exile. Slowly the temperature of the hot water which we used for bathing is going down. Slowly the winter is bidding goodbye and giving us a hopeful smile. A hope of seeing us again after 7-8 months.

#writers on tumblr #written by me #desiblr #desi tumblr #love #me #desi academia #writer academia #me and my thoughts #intellectual #summer #winter #desi teen #teenager #teen #teen thoughts

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inthehouseofslytherin · 1 year

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Source: Pinterest

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katherine-ophelia · 5 months

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I’ve noticed the only thing to ever quiet my mind is you.

i. In the darkness my mind screams for you but you’re quite fond of the color black.

#source: katherine ophelia #loud minds #booklover #bookworm #original writing #writeblr #female writers #poets corner #poet society #writer society #writers corner #dark academia #chaotic academia #writer academia #autistic writer #autistic women #writers on tumblr #be kind to yourselves #literature

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inatriestostudy · 2 years

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Ok but old libraries. The only place where you can find such extensive knowledge on any topic your heart and mind desire. Old libraries with dust everywhere, huge creaking staircases, worn out carpets, yellow pages, forgotten books, secret passageways behind bookshelves and a ginger cat that's been here for longer than anyone can remember. Love messages of people who are now probably in their sixties carved out in the heavy wooden tables and cigarette stains around the windows, where thinkers, lovers and many, many others have once sat, admiring the beauty of nature. Forgotten pressed flowers, or black and white pictures, or old candy wraps falling out of books once you open them, landing on the ground for you to pick up and examine.

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edwardian-masquerade · 1 year

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"Prehaps they were right putting love into books. Perhaps it could not live elsewhere."

-Willam Faulkner

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ceramicteapot · 13 days

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and if you saw me again, what would you do?

i still remember how my heart stopped for a few seconds, how my breath hitched, and my knees nearly gave out the moment i realised you were not going to be around anymore. that you had found other people, better people.

i had grown up listening to my mother’s critiques of people who left. dearest ones, closest ones. i never believed it would happen to me- not at least when it came to you.

a phone call a day turned into a phone call a week, a phone call every 2 months, a few texts on festivals and birthdays- all of it initiated by me. we are yet to get to the point where we don’t even do the last bit anymore. i don’t even remember the sound of your voice. i only watch other people’s versions of you. it seems like my own got deleted.

memory traces decay with time when not fed into.

so sometimes i like to wonder, ‘for fun’. what if we were coincidentally in the same part of town? what if you saw me among the crowd, or sitting stressed out in a chair trying to keep my life from falling apart? will you still come to me? will you say hi? will i matter enough?

or will you pretend to not know me (years of caring for each other spiralling down the sink)? will your face twist in disgust? will you run away? again?

if you saw me again, what would you do?

#writing #creative writing #writers block #writers on tumblr #my writing #prose #writblr #writers #writer #literature #spilled ink #writers aesthetic #writer academia #write #writeblr #prompts #writing inspiration #writing prompts

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janthewriter · 5 months

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The Pen is Mightier Than the Sword

they say that words hold power

and that what you write comes to life.

but what if you tend to write about the

deepest, darkest, horrors

that haunt the furtherest corners of your mind

at the cost of your sanity

are those thoughts that your mind beholds

already well alive

dwelling among us

in the darkness & shadows

begging for our eyes to just simply catch a glance

of the reality around us that already is?

~ j.u.

#creative writing #free verse #new writers on tumblr #poem #poetry #prose #tumblr writers #writeblr #writer academia #writers and poets #writers of tumblr #writerscommunity #writerscorner #writerslife #writing #writing blog #writing community #writing on tumblr #written

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academia-cafe · 2 years

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I am tired of falling in love. For once, I want someone to wholeheartedly, incandescently fall in love with me. I want them to wake up, remember my existence, then be happy for the rest of the day. I want them to write cute little poems and thoughts on paper and burn them, allowing their ashes to make their way to me so that I can inhale their love into my entire body. I want to be the subject of someone's life, the reason they began writing love letters, the reason they began romanticizing life; the reason they keep on living. Or am I just asking for too much?

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