Sweet, mellifluous rays of sunlight
seep through every crack, every seam
invading every crevice, every nook
until there is no space for night.
A million threads,
golden as fresh honey,
bright as a thousand suns,
tether me to the sky.
The shine of silk or velvet,
the beauty of a field of dandelions,
the yellow light,
sends a haze over everything,
obscuring all that is not good.
The morning is acissmus,
the night, a palimpsest.
Until you see the stars.
Oh, the stars deserve their own poem.
I cannot do them justice as a simple end to another.
How can one call themselves human without being enamored with the heavens?
"Women, they have minds, they have souls"
"the wholeness after everything toppled."
"I’m so sick of people saying love
is just all a woman is fit for."
"Perhaps one did not want to be loved so much as understood."
"And sometimes I have kept my feelings to myself,
because I could find no language to express them in."
"The poets are always correct,"
"What an effort to keep alive."
"The Revolution will end with the perfection of happiness."
but.
"The stars in their courses"
"fight against us, my friend."
21|06|2022
2/30 days of self care
Self care things I did today:
read first thing in the morning
went on a walk in the morning (while listening to an audiobook)
didn't force myself to study when I wasn't focusing anymore, instead I turned to another productive, but more creative project.
Journaled
Today went well, the combination of reading right after I wake up, as I drink my tea, and then going for a walk before studying is working amazingly, I feel very relaxed when I start my daily tasks. Today I continued working on those historiographical articles I have been reading and annotating. I started working on the last one I had downloaded, it's quite long, and mid-morning I wasn't focusing at all on it. I decided not to force myself since I am not fully back at my normal energy levels, and instead I started working on a creative project. I am creating a reading journal I will be gifting at the end of the month. Working on something creative while listening to music felt regenerating. In the afternoon I continued reading the article, and then I planned my tasks for tomorrow. I also did my daily practice of Irish on duolingo, and posted this reading update.
tranquilstudy's studyblr challenge // day 6
Today I am grateful for having listened to my body
What have been some things that have changed for you this month? Are they big things, little things? How do you feel about these changes? How do you feel about change in general?
In general I do not deal very well with change, I never have. Although I have gotten better with the years chance scares me, plus I am a very habit based person in general, which doesn't help. As I was saying I have been doing better with the years, I have accepted the fact that often change is for the better, so I feel like I am (slowly) growing.
🎵: Running Up That Hill covered by Rain Paris
one who speaks of
such that is different from their actions
is an idiot,
to entertain the notion
of facing you.
Why?
Who are you?
"To define is to limit," you say,
a smirk dancing on your lips.
It is because you know who you are, that you need someone to find out who that is.
For that is what it is
to be worthy of you.
- Sylvia Plath, from 'Ariel'
I walk out,
Feeling the cold air press against me.
The clouds melt,
Sending their crystalline droplets.
They shatter on the cold ground,
So quickly;
I seem a goddess.
Little dark spots appearing
As my oxfords tap on the pavement.
Drops drip
From the cherry tree,
A bride in spring’s white.
I knew this would happen.
Something in the way the clouds hung over the sky,
Something in the shadow.
I knew that it would rain.
Something in the air, the ambit.
Rain, the ultimate acissmus.
Peace before the onslaught,
Icarus also flew.
Questions To Ask People You Like:
Favourite classical authors?
Favourite poem?
Favourite book?
Preferred writing utensil?
Favourite place?
Favourite memory?
Most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?
Favourite library?
Favourite flower?
Sense and Sensibility or Pride and Prejudice?
Favourite quote?
Favourite Latin phrase?
British or American spelling?
Favorite obscure fact?
Favorite historical figure?
Favorite romance novel?
Favorite big city?
Favorite small town?
Favorite constellation?
Favorite university?
Favorite British town?
Favorite obscure author?
Favorite fabric pattern?
Favorite song?
Story of their first love?
Ideal plans for tomorrow?
Favorite old French author?
Favorite turn of phrase?
Favorite capitol or city hall?
Favorite old building?
Favorite museum?
Favorite book store?
Favorite folk tale?
Favorite historical story?
Favorite historical battle?
Oxford or Cambridge?
Edinburgh or London?
Favorite Italian town?
Favorite palace or castle?
Favorite noble family?
Favorite royal family?
Favorite century?
Ever written a love letter?
Favorite weather?
Tea or coffee?
If your name was Adelia, which nickname would you choose, Addie or Delia?
Favorite Greek, Roman, or Norse myth?
Opinion on Oxford commas?
Favorite word in a foreign language?
Favorite English word?
Favorite historical time period?
Favorite song lyric?
Favorite things?
Hopes and expectations
Ps: I’m doing a survey on Dark Academia for a university project, if you like DA, I’d be happy to have you do it: https://forms.gle/bhFRX9ivTs9BXXdj8
I've been thinking about this for weeks:
Gorgeous by Taylor Swift, but it's Neil Perry when meeting one Todd Anderson, because, goddamn, how can someone be that damn pretty. it shouldn't be allowed.
at first he thinks it's envy. it must be.
todd anderson, gorgeous, gorgeous, todd anderson, who is not only beautiful, but so talented, and poetic, and somehow he manages to make tripping over a stair look graceful !
but then, if it truly is envy, why does he love it ?
why does he love the shine in his eyes, and the peeking prose that hides under his lips ?
he's furious. todd anderson is so gorgeous it hurts, and he can't take it. he loves it. he can't breathe. he's never felt this nervous in his life before.
and who knows, if he actually is just painfully in love with those ocean blue eyes looking in his, that's nobody's business but his own. and maybe todd's. with his stupid, gorgeous face.
we had been late for coffee
“It isn’t Spring until you can plant your foot on twelve daisies.”
- Cambridgeshire Saying
Source: Botanical Folktales of Britain and Ireland