dark-academia-rambles

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does anyone know if you can get in trouble for feeling weird

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The Kiss of Freedom by Rami Kanso

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mary oliver, upstream

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The Ball, Gaston La Touche

c. 1889

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cant stop thinking abt ursula k. le guin’s essay abt the carrier bag theory….. she’s like, maybe the first human tool was not a weapon, but rather something that holds, a bag, a pouch, a vessel, something for gathering and storing and sharing. let’s shift the narrative of humanity from that of violence to that of safekeeping. and i’m like

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I had a dream me and my childhood best friend walked home together after the first day of school. I had this dream the summer after I graduated; she was staying another year. We hadn’t been in the same school for 3 years, when I had this dream. It reminded me of a simpler time. A time where everything felt much more certain

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Palestinian Tatreez Hearts Tapestry Wall Art

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I know it is my father's first time on this Earth, too. And I know He had it worse when he was little.

But I was little too.

— Franz Kafka, from letters to his father

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dang okay this got me

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poem by gazan poet nadine murtaja—(nadine.with.dr on instagram) shared on ig by majazz project

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babe are u okay ur crying about closeness lines over time by olivia de recat again

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sometimes i’ll find an old picture in my camera roll and i’ll feel like i can’t breathe but i can smell the crisp autumn air and how those jeans felt on my skin. i remember my old car and all the bends on the road to my grandmas house and how she loved how colorful the trees were. as if it was a celebration of life right before the end. i remember how the smell of coffee would linger in my clothes after my shifts and how the sun would shine in a way that you’d only see at 4pm on a tuesday afternoon in october. before it all went bad. when they were just a five minute drive away instead of five years. when my name was still safe in their mouth. i can’t seem to catch my breath when i come across these pictures but i can’t seem to delete them either. forever frozen in time a memory of before.

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“Be wary of any mentality that would make cattle or vessels of women, because that same mentality will make machines and tools of you.”

- Andrew Hozier-Byrne

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i hate it when i cant even write a poem about something because its too obvious. like in the airbnb i was at i guess it used to be a kids room cause you could see the imprint of one little glow in the dark star that had been missed and painted over in landlord white. like that's a poem already what's the point

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Shout out to all the notes-app poems, love letters, secrets, novels, diary entries, bucket lists and lyrics that were hurredly typed into people’s phones at 3am and then hidden from the world and forgotten. Maybe one day you’ll open the app and laugh at how pretentious you were, or maybe you’ll smile at that part of yourself that noone else saw

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The Knight of the Flowers (1894)

— by Georges Rochegrosse