How To Fall In Love With Life Again

Go after the career YOU want.

Not the career your parents want you to have, not the career that makes the most money, not the career that seems the most practical.

Go after the career you want. Study the craft. Be the best, and watch the money come to you.

How do you fall back in love with life?

clean your room.  clean space, uncluttered space, space that doesn’t have miasma clinging to it can work wonders.  clean the dishes.  sweep.  take out the trash.  peel the clothes off the floor and wash them, and then actually fold/hang them.  take a long shower.  scrub behind your knees.  brush your teeth.  (this can be utterly exhausting, but try to get it done in a day, if you can.  the end result is worth it.)

pull out your notebook.  it doesn’t need to be a new notebook, but preferably one that you don’t usually write in, or that you haven’t touched in a while.  fuck moleskins.  the yellow legal pad will work fine.  sit in your room, or in the park, or in the library, and write a list.  count clouds.  describe all the colors that you see, and note patterns that arise.  sketch the cracks in the walls.  note the shape light makes when it enters a space.  talk about what the air tastes like, smells like.  what sounds are there?  even the white nose, break that down: air planes, fans, cicadas, anything.  remind yourself that you are sitting in the middle of a space brimming with detail.  remind yourself that you are not in nothingness and emptiness.  your world is fathomless.  it has potential.

drink cold water and try to eat something that isn’t processed.  it does not need to be fancy.  buy yourself an apple with the change between your couch cushions.  eat it outside.  if you’re someone who walks, walk somewhere afterwards, just to stretch your legs.  take your fucking meds.  remember that its a good thing that you are inside your body.  your body is a fantastic and endlessly intricate machine, and even though society has smacked a bunch of poisonous ideas on it, that doesn’t change its inherent worth and splendor.  take care of it.

read a novel.  underline your favorite lines, and write phrases that twist your heart inside your chest on the back of your hand with an ink pen.  read a novel like it’s poetry.  read poetry, something decadent but unpretentious.  watch a movie you haven’t seen before.  if there are free art galleries near you, walk through one.  take your time.  let yourself bask.  if there are patterns in what makes your soul ache, write those patterns down – marbles arches or soot crumbling bricks or dandelions or descriptions of dresses or whatever it is, write them down.

your chosen family is important.  remember, they picked you as much as you picked them.  the love has no obligation.  it is given freely and it is given from a place of compassion.  you are not a burden.  if you need to breathe, take a minute by yourself and just exist, but remember to go back to your people.  when they need you, listen and be gracious.  always be gracious.  the universe sometimes remembers things like that.

listen to new music.  link jump on youtube or related artist jump on spotify or ask the chap beside you in the cafe what their favorite band is, and listen to that.  listen to something that you don’t usually listen to.  we tend to tie up a lot of memory with music.  we are falling in love again.  the soundtrack needs to be specific to that.  

allow yourself to indulge in romantics.  press flowers in old books.  play movies with subtitles and mouth the words.  dance in your room.  wear something that makes you feel good, even if you wouldn’t wear it in public.  write your chosen family letters, even if you hand deliver them.  write poetry, even awful poetry.  revel in its awfulness.  eat dark chocolate and when your chosen family want to go out, try to go out with them sometimes, even if its just to the market.  

{Words by Anaïs Nin, from The Diary Of Anais Nin, Vol. 4 (1944-1947) / Cynthia Cruz from diagnosis,The glimmering room}

If you feel like you’ve seen this alread, that’s normal. This list of recommendation has been previously posted on my first account @praestantias which has been deleted for some reasons. So here I am, reposting it. 

Hating how elitist and eurocentric the dark academia community became, I would truly appreciate that you leave some recommendation of book written by people of color, for I noticed that I am guilty of the eurocentric part, but I am really want to educate myself and read more non-white books. 

Thank you for your suggestions!

Me: this is hamletcore

My therapist: we actually call it clinical depression

dark academia aesthetic tips

what to wear:

turtlenecks, sweaters, and blazers

dark, muted tones. black, brown, emerald green, caramel, rust, dark red, and plaid

wire frame glasses

short neat fingernails

mid-length/long skirts

belts that match your shoes

knee high socks

what to do:

read literature and poetry. when you come across a word you don’t know, look it up and add it to your vocabulary

start the morning with a hot drink, like coffee, tea, or cocoa. preferably at a coffee shop you go to routinely

spend a lot of time at the library. become familiar with the hallways and shelves, and find a favorite spot.

keep lit candles in your apartment. steer away from floral scents!

become familiar with the local art museums. when hanging out with friends or a lover, you’ll find it romantic and timeless.

find a favorite author. familiarize yourself with their work and how they formulate their ideas. 

start a studyblr or studygram, something to inspire others.

connect with your classmates and professors. learn what they love to study, and look into it.

sit outside on a stone bench and read philosophy. discuss it with your friends during deep discussions at midnight.

bitches say they’re fine and then scream the “I sometimes wish I’d never been born at all” in bohemian rhapsody louder than everyone else

Mahmoud Darwish, from Unfortunately, It Was Paradise: Selected Poems; “The Hoopoe,”

There is just something about Taylor Swift’s ‘Invisible String’ that makes me want to dance in the sunlight with ribbons and I absolutely adore it. 

Freddie Mercury would love Sharpay Evans and that’s a fact.