My Body Is But A #camilla Macaulay Temple.

I rewatched Dead Poets Society a few weeks ago and felt inspired to write this contrapuntal poem :)

Velimir Khlebnikov, from The Collected Works of Velimir Khlebnikov; “Lyrics,”

mutuals in this life are just those who happened to frequent the same 19th century opium den in a past life

Virginia Woolf, A Writer’s Diary, August 1921

your hate-filled tongue, your vicious lips

devotion this salvation that. what about fallen saints. saints who once were adored and perfect in the eyes of their god but fell from its grace. saints who once served their divine so faithfully they were seen as extensions of it, yet were given an order they could not fulfill. saints who couldn’t bear the prayers of the innocents ringing in their ears. saints who were once blessed with power and glory. saints who discarded it all in exchange for freedom.

— F. Scott Fitzgerald, from The Love of the Last Tycoon (via lunamonchtuna)

what do you mean, my comments are not cruel, they are honest

writer's block struck. i can't-

gonna take my mind of writing by actually writing an actual original series i've been reviewing with @sincerelycrescent (your comments are cruel but appreciated) (hey i've been coming to the conclusion that i am too kind) so...might make it an original series on here-

and then i may or may not have found out that i have a thing for age gaps don't look at me like that why are you looking at me like that no

i could still write today but then i started losing my motivation for like everything and i'm just like -_- i don't wanna do anything

I'm like if a normal person was severely mentally ill

Margaret Atwood, from ‘Crickets’, The Door (2007)