Same Bro, Same

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

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.

Hello please reblog this if you’re okay with people sending you random asks to get to know you better

do you think henry ever stayed up late unable to sleep, staring at the ceiling in his room thinking about the fact that he had killed two people and didn't hate it. thinking about the fact he might go on to kill more people just for the thrill of it; that if he killed himself he might just be saving the world from another serial killer, and how nice it would be to die the saint and not the sinner

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.

"you got snap or insta?" i have a rope i can hang myself with

(yearns for a past that does not exist) (yearns for a past that does not exist) (yearns for a past that does not exist) (yearns for a past that does not exist) (yearns for a past that does not exist)

still can't get over the fact that i lost my tsh book :(

gays are like: i go to the art museum. i look at a painting. i contemplate the irreconcilable loneliness at the very core of my existence. i look at another painting.

i want to be hugged.

i want someone to stroke my hair.

i want someone to tell me they’re proud of me.

i want someone to hold my hand in public.

i want someone to tell me everything’s gonna be okay.

i want someone to softly caress my skin.

i want someone to teach me their hobbies.

i want someone to explain to me stuff i don’t understand.

i want someone to give me forehead kisses.

i just want to feel safe, for once.