I Have To Be Alone Very Often. I’d Be Quite Happy If I Spent From Saturday Night Until Monday Morning

give me the old-school love. write me letters. leave me random notes. kiss my hands. slow dance with me. write a poem. lie down with me on the grass. read to me.

I wish everyone would admit that classic literature is inherently difficult to read, and that you shouldn’t feel stupid if you don’t “get it”. Especially the dark academia/ classic lit fandoms and stuff. Like unless you have the vocabulary and pop culture knowledge of an 18th century nobleman, it’s going to be a tough read. It’ll take you longer to read; you’re not stupid if you’ve spent several months on a single book! And you don’t have to enjoy everything. It’s okay if you got bored after one chapter of Wuthering Heights, and couldn’t be bothered to read the rest. It’s okay if you want to read your favourite kids book for the 10th time instead. You’re not stupid. No piece of literature is inherently better, more “important”, more “meaningful”, or more “intellectual” than another. First and foremost, read what brings you joy.

may these memories break our fall

— Heather Havrilesky, from “How to Be a Person in the World”

All day long there has haunted me

A spectre out of my lost youth-land.

Because I happened last night to see

A woman's beautiful snow-white hand

- Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Well time for another night of ugly crying to champagne problems.

small things to add to a hand written letter:

a teabag of your favourite tea

heart shaped note with cute drawings

stickers on the outside of the letter, and inside

handmade paper doll

small print or postcard

a sketch or a little painting or a poem

glitter or sequins or pearls or buttons

small candies or bubblegum

cut out magazine pictures or articles

folded paper, like origami

textile like small ribbons or clothing patches

coins or flat things found in a souvenir shop

pressed flower or leaf

the statues of apollo and athena, at the academy athens, in a full moon night.

how to fall in love with life again

go cloud-gazing, lay down in the grass on a sunny day, or empty roads on a rainy day, stare up at the sky and let your mind wander.

read a book so complex that you don't understand anything, fill your arms with scrawled definitions.

writing poems and notes of kindness, hiding them for other people to find and pass along!

read passages of love in another language, untranslated and realise that love can surpass even the greatest of barriers.

find your favourite flower! hunt for it, research it, write an essay on why you love it and how much it means to you!

buy another copy of your favourite book, fill the pages with annotations and give it to a second hand shop for somebody else to experience it the way that you do.

fill a journal with moments of your life, even if you don't think they're very interesting.

listen to music whilst looking at the moon and stars, realising how beautiful life is.

visit an art gallery or a museum near you. become familiar with it, visit it until you know it inside out. make it your special place.

learn the little things about people, including yourself. find their favourite colour and why, find their music taste, their taste in books until you know them perfectly.

the small things! taking sips of warm beverages becomes the most comforting thing, closing your eyes for a moment on a bus and focusing on the lull of movement.

bake/cook your favourite treat. experiment and find the way that makes it taste simply ethereal.

might fuck around and walk into a thick fog and never return idk