#dark acamedia
Anyone got tips on how to beat imposter syndrome and actually become productive
Authentic 90s kid.
Dark Acedemia
Sometimes I go through these weird moments where it occurs to me nothing I say or do really matters and everything feels really empty and dismal and then I remember that I get joy from doing these “useless” things and that that’s all that really matters because fuck unreality you know what I mean?
•Van Gogh’s flowers•
We have found out forever
That blood smells only of blood.
I- so imperfect, so weak,
So unbelievably lonely.
And if the devil was ever to see you,
He’d kiss your eyes and repent.
What do you seek?
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?
what’s so different about the victorian era and today’s world? humans are still destroying the planet, corporations are still enforcing unsafe work environments, racists still arguing that “not all slave owners were bad,” the british royal family is still problematic af, reproductive rights are still determined by rich, white men and folks still fuck with that dark academia aesthetic
It’s the first of December and I’m trying to bring out my “in my heart is a Christmas tree farm, where the people would come/to dance under sparkling lights” feels but the allure of “hey December, guess I’m feeling unmoored/can’t remember what I used to fight for”is magnetic
A year ago, taylor swift wrote an album for the hopeless romantics, the lonely yearners, touch starved kids, the people who peaked in high school, single parents who gave all that they had, the ones who never got over their first love, those who live in a fantasy, grief stricken young people, the entire lgbtq+ community, mentally ill and misunderstood kids, fierce women who’s souls are tired of being second to men, broken hearted divorcées, glamorous and beautiful ingénues who don’t quite belong, sexy murderers, bisexual former gifted kids, teens who are terrified of getting older, people with unrequited crushes, cynical bitches who fell in love and for the dreamers, for us.
In nature, nothing is perfect and everything is perfect.
i guess this is why they call it a ‘break up’ because everything inside me feels like it’s shattering to pieces.
a dark & snowy morning
I wake up awash in titillation,
Your sweetly animalistic fragrance
Suffuses me still, and
My heart paces
As I cling to oneiric
Creation.
I wake up trailing
Soft linens — your hair,
Toward
A crumpled duvet — your shoulder;
All the worried while my heart begs:
“Hold her”;
Nothing matters more than
Keeping you there
Where I can still have you; love you…
A kiss in the aether, there’s
Nothing I can do:
I wake up.
—
10-5-2022, M.A. Tempels ©
i really need to remember that sometimes studying isn’t always possible. we’ve all gone through a lot the past few years, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with having a drop in productivity.
writing poetry is truly a cathartic experience. it doesn’t have to be good, and you don’t have to allow anyone else to read it: just the outpouring of emotion is enough.
i feel like people don’t talk about burn out enough. studying 8 hours a day can seem like a great and aesthetic thing in theory, but in practise it can leave you completely drained, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with taking a break.
