attempting to fix my academic year by drinking an ungodly amount of coffee and going insane
Just starting to work on a large pile of pending work...
...while listening to this:-
Moon, night, stars, chilly breeze, incoming dark clouds. Introspection, solitude, nostalgia, melancholy. Unsent love letters, writing in journals, dead roses. Cold coffee, cold hands, chess games. Latin phrases, French compliments, obscure books. Fyodor Dostoevsky, Donna Tartt, Sylvia Plath, William Shakespeare, Oscar Wilde. Chase Atlantic, The Weeknd, Lana Del Rey, The Neighbourhood, PLAZA. Formula 1, Ferrari team, Carlos Sainz, Max Verstappen. Sapiosexuality, pretentious lovers, dark-haired boys, hazel eyes.
Mes amours... 🥀
When Taylor Swift wrote: 'I wanna be defined by the things that I love', and Oscar Wilde wrote: 'to define is to limit', and Jorge Luis Borges said: 'I am not sure that I exist, actually. I am all the writers that I have read, all the people that I have met, all the women that I have loved; all the cities I have visited'.
My second resolution for this year...
—Margaret Atwood, from You are Happy, 1974
I'm Richard in the way that I always feel left out but im Raskonikov in the way that I push people away whenever they try to hang out with me
sometimes after I take a shower, I feel like the Phoenix reviving from its ashes
aimless
December. The month when things get sad again for no reason. When the sky is dark and life's scary, when the hopes of january are mixed with the reality of december, it's hurting and nostalgic and loud with such painful silence that is now getting difficult to bear.
Rather melodramatic, aren't you? Cubitum Eamus? fifteenâ—Źintpâ—Źstudyblr
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