Lost Is A Lovely Place To Find Yourself

tehe i made a little uquiz you should take it tehehehe

i find it so charming that so many ancient civilisations - if not most of them - believed in gods of some sort. like, the world was so inexplicably incredible that, to them, it could be the work of nothing but the divine.

what the FUCK do you mean not everyone percieves me the same way I do?????? what about all my efforts trying to appear mysterious and hot and perfect and interesting?????????? what am I supposed to do now, exist without the self-imposed burden of constantly orchestrating my every action to fulfil a specific outwards portrayal????????????

BEHOLD!!!!!!

i have never wanted anything more in my life than this little grumpy old-man frog. he is beautiful. he is majestic. but he is not mine :(

he would be king of the world if plushies could be elected into positions of power.

look at him. grumpy old man. oh, what woes burden your little froggy back, froggy man? he'd totally yell at kids for kicking their footballs onto his little toadstool garden and squashing his herbs.

feeling a little goofy, might take part in an ancient ritual in the middle of a forest with a group of insufferable greek students and accidentally kill a farmer whilst in a state of pure enlightenment, idk

Dancing in a hazy nightmare;

Loving in a sharp daydream

chaotic academia is learning latin on duolingo

"why bother drinking decaf coffee if it defeats the point of drinking coffee-" Do you possess no capacity for whimsy? Do you never rest? Must everything you consume work towards fulfilling a need, serving a higher purpose? Must your pursuit of happiness be marred by the constant desire for practicality, and progress, and utility? Can you not just like the taste of coffee

"self-care," i whisper to myself for the fifth that day as i create a new pinterest board to save my silly little pictures to instead of acknowledging the ever-growing pile of revision looming on my consciousness

i miss autumn. i miss short days and long nights. i miss the stars. i miss chunky scarves and knitted beanies and thick sweaters. i miss withered orange leaves underfoot. i miss lukewarm rain. i miss cold winds that smell of nature and death. i miss spending grey days reading classics by candle light. i miss herbal teas and bitter coffee. i miss the sting of ice in my fingers. i miss the harsh softness as the world slowly settles down and gets ready to die.