And Then All Of A Sudden, It Feels Like January Again, And You're All Alone In That Blanket Of Yours,

" What is a person, if not the marks they leave behind? "

- the invisible life of Addie LaRue by V.E Schwab

02.08.23

I studied for 6 hours today. It feels so good to study. I wish for academia to take over my life and consume me. I want to be a workaholic.

Icarus has abandoned me:

The cosmos cries comets, the moon bleeds lullabies, and here i am, icarus; i, who can bear the quarrels of fate and time no more. you sought the sun, but did the sun seek you back? does it mourn you, or am i the only one doing that?

Who's stars am i aligning, are they mine? certainly that is what i was told (did you not tell me that, icarus) . those promises that I kept safe so dearly in my pockets, how did they find me? who am i to chase after the remarkable  (i thought i could, in the name of you, icarus).

i, who sought icarus, can hear him no more. i am searching. where are you?

it is your time to find me, icarus; search for me. heal me. answer me.

But in a solitary life, there are rare moments when another soul dips near yours, as stars once a year brush the earth. Such a constellation was he to me.

- Madeline Miller, Circe

But the world is strange and endings are not truly endings no matter how the stars might wish it so.

- Erin Morgenstern, The Starless Sea

02.03.23

So, today, I got done with a lecture that I've been putting off since December. Feel much more productive. I have a long day tomorrow. I have 2 more lectures to go through and a 5 chap test of physics tomorrow.

whatever was left, that was ours for a while.

sunrise - louise glück

Who do you look for in the stars?

Migration

Twitter | Instagram | Print shop

He showed me his scars, and in return he let me pretend that I had none.

- Madeline Miller, Circe

But books, like people, die. They die in fires or floods or in the mouths of worms or at the whims of tyrants. If they are not safeguarded, they go out of the world. And when a book goes out of the world, the memory dies a second death.

- cloud cuckoo land