“Gather the scattered fragments of your broken heart. Pick them up off the floor and weave them into the tapestry of your life so that when you find the light again-and you will- you’ll remember that love can only be lost because it was once found.
You are healing and you are growing and everything you are is good enough.”
Pretentious, moi? For those who continue to disavow certain aspects of dark academia as pretentious, consider that that action might be a pretentious one itself. Calling another pretentious is a way of policing them, shooting down their creative exploration and a way of keeping them in their place. In addition, it smacks of homophobia; ie the maligned pretentious fop.
https://www.theguardian.com/society/2016/feb/09/in-defence-of-pretentiousness
Write me pretty/sad/romantic/poetics (anything really) to hang up on my bedroom walls to help me decorate, I’ll send a picture if you’d like <3
If you’ve written something that feels wasted or of no use, just sitting around, I’ll display it, proudly, for anyone who comes in to see. You choose whether to just send the quote/poem/ whatever or to out a pretty/cool background with it.
I’ll do my best to put up before and after pictures of the rearranged room and, again, will send you a picture(s) of what you sent me if I hang it up. Love you all.
i’ll say ‘i know a spot’ and then take years to take you there because i’ll be busy sleeping ~.~
Looking out of my window and yearning for the love of my life to arrive seems to be my favourite way to pass the time.
so i walked out of my job the other day. my trainer didn’t wear his mask for two days straight and i was stuck in a tiny-ass room with twelve people for eight hours at a time. i live with six other people and if one of us gets COVID, we all get COVID, and i wasn’t about to risk their lives and mine.
but while i was in there, i had Thoughts.
this is my ranting.
——-
there are cracks in these walls and they are glowing neon. you don’t get to tell me this place is safe to work in. i know safety. i know care. you may fool the others but i will not wither under your stare.
we are worth more than your paltry attempts at friendship and home. we know you don’t give a fuck about the heartbeats within these walls. if you cared at all you would give these people a loan. rent is still due on the first of the month and you want to make me work for no pay?
fuck you for making me starve. i, for one, have no desire to die on your company dime that is barely worth a drop of my time - and GOD FORBID if this experience takes my life.
what a cruel fucking destiny. to be punished for the state’s indecision. to find fault in my citizenship. to realize the government would rather see me die than give relief where it is needed.
to see suffering, and claim it as freedom.
I’ve this idiosyncratic habit of keeping handwritten letters, dried leaves as a bookmark and old flowers inside my books. I think it keeps them lively.
Insta : valvet.days
I changed my descriptor
It no longer says aromantic
Because a girl has come into my life and done the unimaginable
She has made me fall maddeningly in love
And yet its a love i fear is not requited 
The video for “I’m Not Okay (I Promise)” is dark academia and I will not be convinced otherwise
A sketch by Leonardo da Vinci in the 1980 Bulgarian edition of “Vita di Leonardo da Vinci” by Giorgio Vasari.
