Hello please reblog this if you’re okay with people sending you random asks to get to know you better
how can i romanticise studying at awfully modern university? the building is fairly new and of course everything is technically advanced. but there is no soul in it
what should i do to feel very dark academia mysterious historic beautiful classical aesthetic?
i need help i ain’t agreeing with my university years being so basic
i need this, this is much more dramatic than a thermos
1920′s Traveling tea case. From America in the 1920′s, FB.
oh the urge to be part of a hedonistic slightly deranged secret society
my grandma reading TSH pt.2
Me: so what do you think about Francis?
Grandma: awww, he’s such a sad homosexual
I have a theory about what Henry whispered in Camilla's ear before he killed himself.
Among other things, in the first lesson with Julian, he recounts a story about Tiberius:
Think, for example of Tiberius, the ugly stepson, trying to live up to the command of his stepfather Augustus. Think of the tremendous, impossible strain he must have undergone, following in the footsteps of a saviour, a god. The people hated him. No matter how hard he tried he was never good enough, could never be rid of the hateful self, and finally the floodgates broke. He was swept away on his perversions and he died, old and mad, lost in the pleasure gardens of Capri: not even happy there, as one might hope, but miserable. Before he died he wrote a letter home to the Senate. "May all the Gods and Goddesses visit me with more utter destruction than I feel I am daily suffering."
And that is what I think he whispered to Camilla, seeing as the story of Tiberius kind of mirrors Henry's.
Life is short. Drink another coffee. Read another book. Listen to your favourite song again. Hug your mom. Laugh. Cry. Dance in the rain. Push your friend off a cliff because of a milkshake.
this song makes me want to run through the endless fields in the sunset
feeling that oppressive urge to have a group of friends who have weekly dinners at someone’s apartment, flock together on campus, debate literature and philosophy over wine soaked nights, study in the library together long after everyone’s gone, write each other letters when we’re apart for the holidays, run about the woods at night and be utterly, utterly free.
same bro, same
"I shall move somewhere into the woods and try to improve myself."
1914, Franz Kafka
•there are times when I am convinced I am unfit for any human relationship•
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