The Middle

INFORMATION I WAS NOT PREPARED TO LEARN. MAYBE WE *ARE* ALONE. BECAUSE WE ARE SO *EARLY*. IF THERE IS EVER GALACTIC CIVILIZATION THEY WILL NOT REMEMBER US AT ALL. BECAUSE WE ARE NOTHING. CELLS, JUST BEGINNING TO FORM LIFE. SORRY FOR SCREAMING. BUT ARE YOU LISTENING. ARE YOU THINKING ABOUT IT.

A Line made by Walking , Sara Baume //August - taylor swift , edit by @lilacsblossom the unabridged journals of sylvia plath- Sylvia Plath// Wuthering Heights ~Emily Brontë//Mary Oliver from “August”, devotions // Letters of Summer Past by Listy Tamtego Lata VI // august by taylor swift , edit by @lilacsblossom // Mary Oliver , the pond // Gone Girl - Gillian Flynn // the secret life of bees - Sue Monk Kidd// August 3 , 4pm -im not ready//

Sunrise

by Louise Glück

This time of year, the window boxes smell of the hills, the thyme and rosemary that grew there, crammed into the narrow spaces between the rocks and, lower down, where there was real dirt, competing with other things, blueberries and currants, the small shrubby trees the bees love— Whatever we ate smelled of the hills, even when there was almost nothing. Or maybe that’s what nothing tastes like, thyme and rosemary.

Maybe, too, that’s what it looks like— beautiful, like the hills, the rocks above the tree line webbed with sweet smelling herbs, the small plants glittering with dew—

It was a big event to climb up there and wait for dawn, seeing what the sun sees as it slides out from behind the rocks, and what you couldn’t see, you imagined;

your eyes would go as far as they could, to the river, say, and your mind would do the rest—

And if you missed a day, there was always the next, and if you missed a year, it didn’t matter, the hills weren’t going anywhere, the thyme and rosemary kept coming back, the sun kept rising, the bushes kept bearing fruit—

The streetlight’s off: that’s dawn here. It’s on: that’s twilight. Either way, no one looks up. Everyone just pushes ahead, and the smell of the past is everywhere, the thyme and rosemary rubbing against your clothes, the smell of too many illusions—

Between them, the hills and sky took up all the room. Whatever was left, that was ours for a while. But eventually the hills will take it back, give it to the animals. And maybe the moon will send the seas there, and where we lived will be a stream or river coiling around the base of the hills, paying the sky the compliment of reflection.

I went back but I didn’t stay. Everyone I cared about was gone, some dead, some disappeared into one of those places that don’t exist, the ones we dreamed about because we saw them from the top of the hills— I had to see if the fields were still shining, the sun telling the same lies about how beautiful the world is when all you need to know of a place is, do people live there. If they do, you know everything.

The hills are terrible, they hide the truth of the past. Green in summer, white when the snow falls.

anyway just a reminder for the myth lovers out there

king arthur was welsh. merlin was welsh. camelot was in wales. the lady and the lake she pops out of; welsh. excalibur; magic inanimate welsh object. etc.

on the way to see family, i drive past a lake that in which is welsh legend, is the last resting place of excalibur.

i’m just saying in my experience a lot of these legends had been so anglo-fied in the past and it’s like, all this cool shit is celtic welsh legend.

Breathe in the sweetness that hovers in August.

sylvia plath // @thisherelight // raymond carver // @fortuneaday // zoë lianne // mary oliver // emily bronte // taylor swift; via @tayricochets // carole king // @deadwatered // eileen myles; via @unchildhood // kent nerburn // sara baume // claude monet

I bound my first book! It was so much fun and I plan on making more as gifts for my family. The stitching is a little wonky, and I cheated on some of the smaller pages but I love how it turned out! I learned so much about books and how they are made from @sealemon 's YouTube channel. Please check out her content!

Here's the first spread I've done:

I hope to fill the whole book with journal spreads based on my favourite quotes, books, and songs. I love @olivebreezy 's blog, it's full of beautiful journal spreads and great inspiration!

“there are, on this planet alone, something like two million naturally occurring sweet things, some with names so gorgeous as to kick the steel from my knees: agave, persimmon, stick ball, the purple okra I bought for two bucks at the market. Think of that. The long night, the skeleton in the mirror, the man behind me on the bus taking notes, yeah, yeah. But look; my niece is running through a field calling my name. My neighbor sings like an angel and at the end of my block is a basketball court. I remember. My color’s green. I’m spring.”

— Ross Gay, excerpt of “Sorrow Is Not My Name”, in Bringing the Shovel Down

fuck you education system for making it seem like physics is a terrible subject

thinking about “you haven’t met all the people who will love you” and like!!! you also haven’t found all the things that will make you happy!!!! there will always be new authors and musicians and artists whose work you will one day discover and love!!!! there will always be new hobbies and skills for you to learn and feel fulfilled by!!! there will always be new things around the corner that will bring sudden and unexpected happiness!!!!!!!!!!!