me after every identity shift: ok *this* is my true self!! I’ve actually always been like this and now I’m finally letting it out! last time was fake, but this time I’m sure! welcome to the real me!!
whenever people ask me about the saddest book I’ve ever read, the ones that made me cry the most, they’re always surprised when I name The Lord of the Rings. and here’s why: throughout the books we have so many of the characters looking back at the hi(stories) before them, back to the ‘forgotten days’, the language echoing over and over, at Thorin’s death or Fëanor’s— these stories are so wrapped into the world, these stories can never be shrugged off.
but here’s the thing: Middle-Earth is dying, and the stories are dying with it. not in the way that they won’t be told, but in the way that the stories are just stories, now. Middle-Earth is dying, and it glisters as it dies, and in the embers you can see the echoes of great fires that burned long ago and you know those fires won’t burn again. at the end, Frodo sails and Gandalf sails and the Elves sail or fade away and you know this is the last story, the last song, Middle-Earth is dying and those great songs and tales are only songs and tales now
she is an Artist
such grace…
бъдете горди
/bulgaria/
“feverishly obsessed with hamlet after reading it once in twelfth grade english” is just as important and embarrassing of a phase as emo/scene/anime and should be acknowledged as such
me at age 15 writing fall out boy lyrics in my math notebook is genuinely the exact same as me at age 18 writing hamlet’s final speech in my personal journal
it just occurred to me that maybe i’m just wrought with a spineless melancholy and this isn’t universal.
we try to apply human logic to the heart based, soul based, universal beingness. like the reason for life being to learn for instance, we can think of linear collection of knowledge to be the meaning for everything. but when you look at the sun, when you’re blinded by the sun, when you’re mesmerized by the dew drops in a spiderweb, when you see a new born cow land in the arms of the earth, raise on shaky legs and go to it’s mother and the mother to it, when you see a child running, laughing, when your eyes are spellbound by the flame on a candle, or when your nose fills with the scent of flowers or thunder you feel a glimmer of the truth that’s too grand and too simple to be reduced to solely being about knowledge or lessons. something much more ancient, much newer, much more timeless is dancing
Some of you have never gotten all your books confiscated by your third grade teacher because you were reading them under your desk in math class and it shows
