#dark academic aesthetic
University of Oxford by easy.reel.
Natural History Museum by comewithkris.
When your eyelash falls on your cheek, do you pick it up and try to change fate’s design? Do you place it in between your palms and hold it tightly, pull it to your lips and whisper through the cool of your skin, “Come, come back home”? Then release your fingers, blood returning through the whites of your palms, eyelids flickering as the sunlight wakes up the brown pools of your eyes. Blow the warm air that carries your message, sealed in what was once yours. If the future is set to stone, then darling why do we wish?
Cover me in Autumn leaves and let me stare at this endless blue ceiling in orange-painted glasses. Cover me in Autumn leaves until my senses liquify and drown me in its homey perfume. Cover me in Autumn leaves and let me drink the sap, make it run in my bloodstream. Cover me in Autumn leaves, so that I can love it enough to be unafraid of changeforevermore.
There are days when I want to write and other days I want to disappear. I want to meld with the air until the dual forces of nature are removed from the equation of time and extant. I will live indisputably but in you and around you. I will turn into an intangible substance you claim to be mystic, almost ghostly without flesh and bones, still lingering in your memories like a driving force of languid dreams. And you will wonder is this dream or real? You’ll clear your throat to feel your voice and the comprehension will give you peace. Then I shall disappear, again.
It’s midnight and you’re awake
For your footsteps echo in someone else’s dream;
Your thoughts louder than the tides that hit the shore,
Bottled up feelings floating on the deep-sea
It can’t be broken, no there’s not a key,
But it unfolds like covered inked pages re-telling a folklore
Sometimes in her softest hush and others in her shrillest scream.
It’s midnight and you’re awake
For the love, you chose to forsake.
We loved each other in circles, never reconciling once but drifting apart every second. To reach a hand, one had to fall; but with our feet on the ground, we chose to run further. And with paper hearts and yellowed letters, you loved me differently and so did I.
You and I are fictional characters living in a fictional town. We tell each other lies, so that when we go back to bed tonight, we do not feel empty.
Some poison tastes like honey, dripping with saccharine and others taste bitter like guilt and treason. But what if the poison tasted nothing when sampled? What if its course of eradicating your core was measured and deliberate? Your superficial smile hiding the anarchy inside you, your kind hands closed around your lips to muffle the yelps, your compassionate heart wrapped by the arteries and veins, through which It flows: soundlessly and peaceably…But it gives you love, happiness and hope above all. It makes you assess the minutiae of life and teaches you to live in the moment. So, if death was destined to be then why don’t you stay a little longer and let me taste the human flavour of your Poison?
Hope is found in the silver thread that stitches the horizon,
In the deepest blue of the sea
The hiatus between your breathing self and the trident of Poseidon
A regal honeycomb but a humble bee.
Where the beauty veils an ugly verity,
Where the kohl and rouge veil the age
Where the mouth mouths against solidarity
Yet expectantly peeking at the bottom of the page.
Hope is a beautiful thing to nurture, without a fee
Hoping to keep igniting an ember of Hope inside me.
Across the ocean and the seven seas,
The misty land and valleys,
Where the rainbow ends in a pot of gold
And the tales of the star-crossed lovers remain untold;
Where ink and blood fight with uncommon élan
There, I will meet you where We began.
Urge to stay or let go
Migration when the things turn shallow;
Will you even out the grass and idle the dawn away?
Or will you burn the midnight oil when feats at bay?
Kawaii Academia
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°cute notebooks and neat handwriting
°cute pencils and erasers
°doodle cats in the margins of textbooks
° skirts and turtlenecks, a knitted sweater falling around your shoulders
°soft voices, loud minds
°soft classical and lo-fi as you study
°customizing your computer cursor into a strawberry or something
°calligraphy
°writing poetry at lunch with your friends, or outside under a large shady tree
°tea with a lot of honey
°whispering songs under your breath and humming as you work
°writing essays on characters you like, or concepts that will help the world
°stuffed animals you read essays and presentations to
°naming everything you see
A night of thunder storm n I sit beside my window talking with a friend …..
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This is a introduction post that I never thought would turn out this … That I’ll create just another fragile piece of my heart ……
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