New Homescreen!!! Ios 14 Is A Godsend Tbh

“We read to know we’re not alone.” - William Nicholson, Shadowlands

it just bottles up and up until you can’t hold it, and once you spill it, you don’t feel anything anymore

five things that made me fall in love with you. or maybe even more...

this awkward joke, my favorite first awkward joke. it was so strange, but it was the first time you made me feel special, even in this strange and sarcastic way

our friendship. it was so warm, so familiar, so close. just like rainy summer day when something is not supposed to be happening, but still happens, yet feels really really good, our friendship was the most interesting interaction with anyone in this world

trust. it is not even the fact that i can tell you anything as much as the fact that i really want to. Or maybe it is a mixture of both that makes me feel so secure with you

mutuality that never in my life i felt so much, before you. those meaningless fights on who loves more are fun, but honestly i feel like we both give out full 100% into this relationships which makes me extremely grateful.

it feels like it was yesterday. first time i realized that i’m falling for you, first kiss, first i love you, first time that i saw you in my future. It is just doesn’t feel like burden, and i don’t feel like it ever will. It is so easy to be with you, because it just feels right. there are challenges and struggles, but i don’t feel like they matter at all. nothing ever makes me feel like giving up, because whatever it is, just having you in my life is so god damn worth it.

you are not like other people. you look at things in this different but also interesting way that always made me wonder and made me want to explore them. I can’t get tired talking to you, because even though we are same, yet manage to be so different. I know everything i need to know about you, while actually i don’t know anything at all, because you are too much to explore, and i’m willing to test my luck until our last talk.

he is a master piece no cap

Oscar Wilde photographed by Napoleon Sarony, 1882.

These photographs were taken in January of 1882, when Wilde had first arrived in America for his year long lecture tour. All were taken in the studio of the most famous portrait photographer of the time, Canadian born Napoleon Sarony. The various furs, capes, velvet jackets, and stockings Wilde wore for the photo shoot reflected the attire he would wear to his lectures.

It certainly surprised me when I found out that the majority of Wilde’s most iconic images came from the same session, and were taken in the U.S. when Wilde had only published a yet to be produced play, Vera; or, the Nihilists, and a single book of verse (which Wilde can be seen holding in the first and second photographs).

this is one of my shitty art works from today :( anyways i’m feeling like i totally forget how to draw and it drives me crazy which not good and i’m tying out this new style or maybe even technic to draw when you do it by layering, which i already used when i was drawing not digitally which acril but rn in digital art i feel like i totally suck at this stuff and i just really want to learn to do it better. so for now i have goals and this whole quarantine took my motivation and power and i just want to be finally free and wish it is going to be soon because i’m literally dying which is not good yk yk

Dark academia reading list ✨📚

-The Secret History by Donna Tartt

-The Lake of Dead Languages by Carol Goodman

-If We were Villains by M. L. Rio

-Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo

-The Magicians by Lev Grossman

-Metamorphoses by Ovid

-Dead Poets Society by N. H. Kleinbaum

-A Series of Unfortunate Events by Lemony Snicket

-The Hound of the Baskervilles by Arthur Conan Doyle

-Never let me go by Kazuo Ishiguro

-The Bacchae by Euripides

-The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

-Memoirs of Hadrian by Marguerite Yourcenar

-Possession by A. S. Byatt

-Les Fleurs du Mal by Charles Baudelaire

The saddest moment is going to self harm and realising you have to look for clean skin to cut...

Stare. Dead stare. It didn’t have an ending nor did he remember when it all began. Flames were reflecting in those dark iris of Anthony’s eyes, didn’t represent what he felt at all. Colors were dancing all across the room, while some gray bag of blood didn’t even move for the celebration of once again rising sun. His legs were shaking, so he finally stood up to close the window, just to realize it wasn’t cold that made him freeze. Ironic isn’t it,he thought, everything in this room reminded him of warmth of happiness that he might never feel again. In flame he saw escape, in flame he found ease. Desire to run didn’t leave him for a second, but he couldn’t even breathe properly, or maybe it was just а dirt on long-time abandoned carpet. Dust was flying all across the room just like Anthony’s memories did. Both turned his eyes red. It wasn’t the end of everything, maybe. But one thing was for sure ending, and it was his freedom, once and for all.

i have to read this one

“He is half my soul, as the poets say.”

 - The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

I finished Madeline Miller’s The Song of Achilles a few days ago. I loved it. It is so beautifully written, I found myself repeatedly wailing aloud at sentences. This year I’ve been making an effort to read more fiction (I started out with the Patrick Melrose novels, which I loved) as I spend most of my time reading nonfiction for work. The Song of Achilles. Would recommend.

Patroclus: “The word I use is hubris. Our word for arrogance that scrapes the stars, for violence and towering rage as ugly as the gods.” 

I’m now just over a third of the way through the Odyssey. Same translator, Robert Fagles, but wow, the tone is different. Not only am I understanding better why people think the person/people who composed the Iliad differ from those who did the Odyssey, but I’m also understanding why more people seem to prefer the latter. Its pace isn’t as violent and relentless as the Iliad and yet the energy still feels greater somehow. I can far more easily imagine the Odyssey being performed, than the Iliad. But I still find the Iliad incredibly… impressive, is the word. Impressive.

img: Romare Bearden, Circe, 1977