Hi Loves ‧｡⋆

────❁───────❁────────❁──────❁────────❁────

Hey 🌸˚˖⋆, so lately I've been thinking of ways to romanticize my college experience and decluttering and re-organizing my digital space with Notion has been helping with this.

What is your favorite kind of aesthetic for Notion.

The city was silently bloating in the hot sun, rotting like the thousands of bodies that lay where they had fallen in street battles. An oppressive, hot wind blew from the southeast, carrying with it the putrefying stench of decay. And outside the city walls, Death itself waited— in the persons of Titus, son of Vespasian, and sixty thousand legionnaires, who were anxious to gut the City of God.

—Francine Rivers, A Voice in the Wind (Mark of the Lion series).

—𝓐𝓵𝓲𝓬𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓦𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓭

The vibe my crush brings to the function ♥︎

—ℝ𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕝𝕒𝕨 ℙ𝕣𝕠𝕡𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕒

My personal fig tree

"Her heart was made of liquid sunsets". ⭒⛅₊ ⭒ -Virginia Woolf

Today, I encountered a little black girl who looked frail and seemed timid, and it nearly brought me to tears. There was something in her eyes, a glint of quiet pain, of low self-esteem. She seemed afraid to speak, to take up space, to simply exist in the fullness of who she is. And in that moment, my mind instantly went to my younger sister. And of course, to my younger self. I see so much of myself in my little sister. I love her with everything in me, and I would do whatever it takes to shield her from the cruelty of the world—from my father's rage, from society’s judgment, from the harshness I was never protected from. I couldn’t save my younger self from all the things that broke me. The things that silenced me, made me shrink, made me feel like I wasn’t enough. So when I see little girls like that—like her—I feel this deep, aching need to protect them. I glanced at her multiple times today, and she might’ve thought I was judging her. I wish I could’ve told her I wasn’t. That I cared. That in a world where others might overlook her or treat her like she’s invisible, I see her. I would be there for her. But I couldn’t say it. Because that would've scared her off. I hope I see her again. Sometimes, I wish I wasn’t this sensitive. I wish I could just numb myself just a little, so I wouldn’t have to feel so deeply all the time. But here I am, writing this with tears in my eyes. Empathy is starting to feel like a curse to me.

—A lady and Her Quill, Journal of wandering thoughts.

"I wanted to be loved so desperately that my fingers shook with it, I am not beautiful but I could be" ― Emily Palermo