“I wanted to feel loved without feeling like I was begging for it.”
-unknown
when the Donna Tartt; dark sweaters and short skirts; lace tights and mary jane’s; ink stained fingertips and scribbled notes in the margins; Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein and M.L. Rio’s If We Were Villians; writing in a spiraled notebook; lectures on Rome and Religion; starts to resurface in your psyche
“Forget thus the nature of men, for love makes fools of the hands it holds/ Think not the torment that comes from kissing the thorns/ For a rose is often scornful before it is adored.”
- the play i’m currently writing <3
- Oscar Wilde
- Kavya Dixit
“Let be not a tragedy worse than that of mine own nature/For woe shall thy heart beat only for thine affection/Oh cursed beauty thou art the artist of my pain/Love lives not in thy body but in mine soul for shall I devote my every breath to thee”
“O Captain! My Captain!” -A poem by Walt Whitman, A mantra from John Keating
the way it would wreck my entire existence, i’m going to need it to be at least 3 hours long oh my god
no bc a live action of the song of achilles would actually be the absolutely ruin of me
oh to live in a victorian styled home with orange tinted lamps that flicker in the evening as paintings of obscure aesthetic origins line the walls of the hallway where i can pretend to be sherlock holmes pacing before the bookshelves and scattered papers trying to uncover the truth behind the age old murder of the old owner…
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