Yes Girl You Are So [if I Loved You Less I Might Be Able To Talk About It More] [hands Are Unbearably

i would love to be able to see the moon through the eyes of some human from thousands of years ago. like, a magic silver orb in the sky that changed shape and colour and moved?? the world must be so much more beautiful when viewed with no context.

just got nettle stings all over my legs from running through a forest at dusk because i was spooked by an owl that is so manic pixie dream girl of me

"self-care," i whisper to myself for the fifth that day as i create a new pinterest board to save my silly little pictures to instead of acknowledging the ever-growing pile of revision looming on my consciousness

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

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

me: finds intelligence hot

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

running away to some dilapidated georgian mansion in the moors to persure my writing career and slowly but surely gain a reputation in the nearby village as a potential witch, anyone wanna come?

baroque in the 21st century

i miss autumn. i miss short days and long nights. i miss the stars. i miss chunky scarves and knitted beanies and thick sweaters. i miss withered orange leaves underfoot. i miss lukewarm rain. i miss cold winds that smell of nature and death. i miss spending grey days reading classics by candle light. i miss herbal teas and bitter coffee. i miss the sting of ice in my fingers. i miss the harsh softness as the world slowly settles down and gets ready to die.