I Realize That Nothing I Do On Tumblr Is Really “academic”, Thats Because Im Just Someone Who Doesn’t

A handfull of weeks ago I bought this really old book from a vintage store. And I don't just mean from 50 years ago or something, I mean from like 100 years ago. It's in German or something, and I can't read it. But it was so interesting I just had to bring it home. The number in the cover says 1860 and I know the book itself was around since 1881 from the first of many signatures and dates on the inside.

Im a bit cautious about touching it since it's badly damaged but here are some photos. Anyone know what language/book this is? What's it about? So curious

I hate when people don't believe me when I say I'm good without something.

You don't have to buy me things to win my affection, I'm not trying to be considerate of your finances, I just don't want a drink. It's okay. Sometimes I'm just not hungry and I'm not interested in that last cookie. It's okay that I really like that thing, I just don't want it. I know that eating it right now isn't what will make me feel good.

Why can't friends and family respect that I sometimes don't want things, sometimes I just want a glass of cold water with a straw. And that's good enough for me.

I just adjusted and heard my bones crack, theyre not supposed to do that unless I tell them too.

I always knew I needed to keep a clear mind. It was helpful in every sense, but I found it so difficult to achieve, especially when I was conscious of my state of mind. I held my head in my hands, bent over with my elbows digging into my knees. The green park bench didn't help anything either, it was rough, uneven and uncomfortable. The air around me was cold but not harsh on my skin, and gentle winds tousled my hair and swept it to a side. The kindly breeze kept me company, I think it was the only things stopping me from crying.  I inhaled slowly, pushing my hair back with a hand. I closed my eyes and leaned back on the old bench, one of the planks dug into my back but I didn't mind. My head tilted towards the sky, I steadied myself. Slowly, like the forest waking from winter, I opened my eyes. The sky was a light gray, it wasnt unusual to see this sort of cloud cover, even early in spring. Unfortunately, the world told me it wasn't going to rain. I stay stilled for several moments, taking in everything. The smell of late winter, the taste of coffee still resting on my tongue, the sound of the winter rustling the bare limbs of trees. As I breathed, becoming one with my atmosphere, a small speck of white came into vision against the only slightly darker sky. It gently danced through the air and was quickly joined by friends like it. The snowflakes laughed like children and ran around, hopping, skipping and jumping as they descended down through the air, become calmly landing on my face and glasses. I smiled despite myself and previous mood, isn't it funny how quickly things can change? How quickly the walzt of snow fall turned into a slumber and blankets the world in white.

Good weather always brings out the best in my writing

Inspiration comes from basically anywhere, but sometimes I want something to occupy my mind as I live. So I make stories from small fragments of inspiration. Usually agitation, if I'm being honest. Sometimes they come from small bits of hope. Those are always my favorite.

Today I believe it was hope. Maybe optimistically, I want to believe it was hope.

The morning light perfectly illuminated only one of my drums.

Episode 2: Annoyance

One thing I've learned about tumblr from my years of stalking you all in YouTube compilations and then actually being on here, is that nothing matters. Do the people care if you put stuff in your tags? No. Do they care if you don't put tags at all? No. Do they care if what you're talking about even makes sense??? No.

Will forever regret not grabbing that really nice tweed jacket I saw on the ground walking to and from school. It didn't have any holes either. I ignored my magpie instincts and lost out

Why does a good coat or tweed jacket have to cost 500£?!?! 😭

Ballin' but at what cost?

My fucking spine that's what