“What Light Is Light, If Silvia Be Not Seen?”-Willy Shakes

I got these precious books today! I swear that I do not have anymore space for books in my apartment. But, I still get them anyways.

This is the epitome of academia and it’s beautiful in my eyes.

Finally came in the post!

Colette, tr. by Matthew Ward, from The Collected Stories; “The Accompanist, //Charles Bukowski

I live by this

Wow it’s scary how relatable this is

Chaotic academia (dark academia without the elegance):

Having one dusty record on the turntable that hasn't been touched in weeks.

Spare change shoved deep into pockets.

Rips in the lining of a wool coat.

Dyeing a shirt black to fit the occasion instead of getting a new shirt.

Listening to the same tape over and over and over.

Taking half an hour to get to the point of your anecdote.

Word vomit.

Bending a paperback in half when you read it.

Bobbing a foot up and down when you sit with your legs crossed.

Tea stains.

Tea rings on every surface.

Empty cups everywhere.

Plants that somehow manage to cling to life.

Piles of newspapers in the bathroom, kitchen, next to the sofa, everywhere.

Old light bulbs because new ones are bright white and inferior.

Being very passionate about many things at the same time.

Knowing a little bit about a lot of things.

Essentially being a glorified hoarder.

Yorick...bae

I relate to this 100%

my favourite things i’ve done with Dark Academia

stayed up all night before school to read an entire book

completely bought out the charity shops book shelves,, like they where e m p t y

also all those books cost 50p each

worn the same sweater 4 days in a row because it’s comfortable and looks pretty

had so many notebooks my desk is overflowing with them

having so many books that they physically won’t fit on my shelf anymore so they need to go around my room on the floor

drinking mass amounts of coffee even tho i’m lactose intolerant

i shall add on as my crackheadery progresses

Writers gather around

“Writers aren’t exactly people...they are a bunch of people trying to be one person” -F. Scott Fitzgerald 

...I am writers. Thank you Scott, for giving an explanation for my dilemma.

A Confession to the Astral Bodies

October 19th 3:25 am

I went downstairs to make a cuppa of Lady Grey. The moon illuminated my path down the stairs. The kitchen was lit with her silvery light. Candles were not needed at all. The white marble tiles were tinted with a silvery periwinkle hue. I made my way towards the windowpane after putting the kettle on. I leaned against the icy glass to look up at the heavens. The full moon looked majestic in all her regal vestments. She is hypnotizing tonight with the stars ever so bright. My eyes began to wander, and came to an abrupt halt upon spotting Orion's belt; the three distinguished flickering dots above me. Soon enough, I found some of my other friends: Sirius, Perseus, Lynx, and Gemini. Draco and Aries were out of reach tonight, probably navigating about the celestial sphere. But, we will meet again at the zenith of my universe when the conditions are right. I recall making my daily confessions to the constellations above. They would listen and provide me with the consolation and redemption I sought out for. The stars have seen me cry. The stars have seen me smile. And the stars have been my dearest companions. I woke up from my trance when I heard the kettle whistling. I took out a teabag from a viridian tin box and placed it in my beaker mug. As I poured the boiling hot water, the aroma of citrus and lavender filled the air around me. I then poured milk and stirred in a wee bit of sugar. I took a sip and the gelid numbness on my toes and fingertips subsided. The howling wind and the elegant rustling of leaves outside was the moon’s sirens call. I was once again in a trance and made my way towards the kitchen door of my humble seaside cottage leading into the veranda outside. The wind pierced through my skin and salty sea air filled my lungs. I felt truly and in every possible way, alive. My senses seemed to be enhanced by some mystic power. I looked up and let the moonlight penetrate my mind, body, and soul. All my woes dissipated at that serene moment. All that lingered on my mind was the moon’s sublime beauty and her scintillating stellar servants in the empyrean domain.

-A Chemistry Academic

H.A.