Chaotic Academia Is Learning Latin On Duolingo

'spit' being the past tense of 'spit' doesn't sit right with me.

Im surviving solely off of books, coffee and maladaptive daydreaming

me: finds intelligence hot

also me: unconditionally and furiously despises anyone who is even slightly better than me at anything

sometimes i wanna be red nails and cigarettes and cat-eye sunglasses, but then again i wanna be lipgloss and rose petals and lace, but at the same time i also like baggy sweaters and second-hand book stores and polaroids, but then i think about long scarves and fog and well-worn books, but then i see fingerless gloves and bruised knees and tangled jewellery, but also what about messy braids and daisy chains and knee-high grass, but then-

ash by tracy k. smith

piranesi vi, giovanni piranesi // the haunting of hill house, dir. mike flanagan // bony legs, joanna cole & dirk zimmer // midsommar, dir. ari aster // murder of agamemnon, pierre-narcisse guérin // game of thrones: a man without honor, dir. david nutter // goodnight mommy, dir. veronika franz & severin fiala // it, dir. andy muschietti // hereditary, dir. ari aster // crimson peak, dir. guillermo del toro // the vigil, dir. keith thomas // house of leaves, mark z. danielewski // spike field, safdar abidi // i’m thinking of ending things, dir. charlie kaufman // the lighthouse, dir. robert eggers // relic, dir. natalie erika james // annihilation, dir. alex garland // anatomy, kitty horrorshow

literally all i want in life rn is a thunderstorm. like i wanna wear an oversized cardigan that i can wrap around myself whilst i sit gloomily at a window watching the slashes of silver lightning streak the sky with a mug of hot berry tea and a candle to read a jane austen novel by. pls.

convinced that 96% of my problems would be solved if i had a private library

ink-stained fingers, crumpled sheets of unfinished poetry, withered roses, lipstick on the rim of a coffee cup, dark chocolate, forgotten gods, starless nights, red candles, bloody knees, ribbons in hair

hate when folk call the Sun “our nearest star” no you dweebs that’s OUR STAR! After everything she's done for you and you want to compare her to some lightyears away ass nobody called some shit like Guncho 785B? We're not spinning eternally around any old ball, we’re three deep in the window on board the Sol Train and she did NOT provide the catering, the itinerary and all the fuel to share credit with some two-bit Proxima Centauri hack. point to these nuts in a constellation while you're at it. i love the sun