“She had bought herself a blotting book, writing case, pen-holder, and envelopes, although she had no one to write to; she dusted her what-not, looked at herself in the glass, picked up a book, and then, dreaming between the lines, let it drop on her knees. She longed to travel or to go back to her convent. She wished at the same time to die and to live in Paris.”
— Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert
““The ancient Greeks believed that when you read aloud, it was actually the dead, borrowing your tongue, in order to speak again.””
— - A Tale for the Time Being by Ruth Ozeki
this bracelet came with the original letter
addressed to ’ pet ‘
christmas 1884.
no one tells you how much of life takes practice. not just writing, painting, running, singing, etc, but practicing how to make friends. how to make the right ones. getting practiced at how to be a good friend, a good sibling, a good person. practice identifying when people haven’t earned that. learning to recognize your right to rage and, eventually, how to offer mercy. so much of life is muscle memory, and i’ve begun to realize there are so many more parts of ourselves to flex and stretch and strengthen than those we’re taught in anatomy lessons
can’t wait til I’m released from captivity into the wild and immediately get carried off by an eagle
anyways here are beauty tips from a 2,000 year old Mediterranean funerary moasic:
rosewater on your face and neck each night
hair left in an up-do with only a slight face framing piece in a gentle curl
earth tone eyeshadow and kohl black eye liner to look sultry even in death
staining your lips a tender red with pomegranate seeds or kisses from a cherry
minimal gold embellishments and a sip or two of red wine to darken your cheeks when you smile in the dreamlike haze caused by Dionysus
demon, after possessing me: now that i have control over y-
me: y'know.. this is actually kind of hot, if you think about it.. romantic, even. in a way
demon: *immediately exorcizes itself*