#gothic academia
I’m feeling a bit down so sorry for the lack of posts
Если бы я обладал бессмертием, я бы потратил его на изучение истории, наук и искусств. Целая вечность разверзлась бы передо мной, обнажая свои секреты. Лоскуты мироздания сползали бы с книг, крепостных стен ветхих замков и пыльных архивных свитков, а я бы всё сдирал и сдирал их, неистово пытаясь докопаться до истины. Для чего? Чтобы убедиться, что за последним пластом таится и хищно скалится ещё бессчётное множество тайников, потому что этот мир никогда не позволит себя разгадать.
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i love discovering the hidden gems in my city!
all bitches want is to be yearned for.
it’s me, i’m bitches.
I’m just thinking about creating a secret brotherhood at a prestigious art academy, transforming poems by Keats into paintings, and making Charles Dickens angry with my depiction of the Virgin Mary.
—Members of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, probably
what is a fatal flaw if not a morbid longing for the picturesque?
All my grief says the same thing— this isn’t how it’s supposed to be. And the world laughs, holds my hope by my throat, says: but this is how it is.
Fortesa Latifi//The Truth About Grief
the feminine urge to kill
- You wake up in a lecture hall. When did you get here? How did you get here? You look down at your feet. They’re gone. You have merged with the floor. You are one with uni and uni is you. Everytime a bored student scribbles on their desk, they carve into your skin. You smell blood.
- Your field of study is divided into 3 main schools of thought. Each school consists of 3 main areas. Each of these areas is divided into 3 main topics. Each topic splits into 3 major theories. Each theory is supported by 3 observations.
You stare at your 3 hands with 3 fingers. Your 3 eyes blink. Thrice.
- You awake from your homework as if from a dream. What language is this? Illogical hieroglyphs stare at you and shuffle around on the paper. You have forgotten what you were trying to prove. What lnguaudka i sdha s? The paper giggles and you’re so tired. You smile and answer in a language you do not understand.
- You will need to buy a book for this course. It is pricey. Maybe you can afford a hand-me-down. A hand descends from the ceiling. It beckons you and offers you a deal: the cursed volume for a bracelet of ramen. You sigh and knit another bracelet, while the hand massages your scalp. The pact is made. Finally, you get to open the first page.
Your professor wrote this book.
…
Your hollow, desperate shriek wakes the ever-sleeping students in the last row. They climb over the tables, slimey hands embracing you from behind, and they whisper “There’s a pdf online. For free.” Coffee is pouring out out of their eyes, staining your shirt.- You write a to-do list. The paper grows longer and longer as you vomit long lines of responsibility-ink onto it. You cannot stop. Just like real vomiting, it feels gross and violating, but somehow liberating in a primal sense. Somehow, you find yourself on your knees, in the middle of the street three blocks away from your bed where you’d started. The cars drive compassionately around you as you scrunch up the paper and vomit at the sky. You cross out the whole list, draw a single check box underneath and write “Write a to-do list” next to it.
