Latin Phrases Worth Knowing:

richard siken, war of the foxes / little women (2019) dir. greta gerwig

Anais Nin, Mirages: The Unexpurgated Diary of Anais Nin, 1939-1947

@srphne liked 

He’s glad to see that Aimée is here too. He can’t overstate how much a friendly face makes him feel less nervous. He’s only here at all because he didn’t want to disappoint his roommate. Montague seems very nice, but also like... a lot.  Just a lot to deal with, and Jules really doesn’t want disappoint him so soon after they’ve met. So... he’s here.

          ❝Would it be rude to leave an impromptu Bonfire your roommate planned early?❞ His tone is joking, but he really does want to leave. He’s nervous around people in general, and this- with so many people around- is worse. So Aimée being here helps a little.

          ❝Kidding, o-of course. I want to stay for the ghost stories at least. I’m very interested to hear what other people might think they’ve seen here...❞

Wanting to hear those stories and not wanting to disappoint Montague are the only things keeping him here. And he does really want to hear those stories. He even brought his notebook with him, though he’s not mentioning that detail to Aimée.

We are, as a species, addicted to story. Even when the body goes to sleep, the mind stays up all night, telling itself stories.

Jonathan Gottschall, The Storytelling Animal: How Stories Make Us Human (via wordsnquotes)

Does anyone else love bad weather? Like the kind that’s loud and dark and draws attention to its self like pounding rain drops and thunder and lightning that seems just so close. And you can sit near a window and it’s dark outside and maybe you’ve got a candle lit or a lamp and it’s so warm inside and you’re wearing you’re favourite sweater and watching a good show or reading a good book and it’s beautiful outside the rain and the clouds and the sound of it all and you’re just so content and cosy and happy

i personally love to over analyze everything and suffer

College gothic

the water in the showers turns cold. your fingers are turning purple. your teeth are chattering. you have not touched the knob. the water in the shower starts burning you. welts rise on your skin. there is no air, only steam. you have not touched the knob.

“Good morning” someone says. it is 7:30. “Good morning” someone says. it is 1 in the afternoon. “Good morning.” Someone says. It’s nearly midnight. “Good morning.” you reply.

you are going home this weekend. you were just home. you have not been home in months. cobwebs grow over the pictures of you. cloth is draped over the furniture in your room.

the days drag by. the days go so fast they blur into one another. what month is it? you do not know. you have class.

you’re so tired. your hands are shaking. you’re buzzing with the caffeine of your fifth coffee. the words of your textbook are blurring in front of your eyes. someone asks you if you are okay. what is okay? you are tired.

“I don’t have any finals” someone says to you. horns erupt from your head. wings sprout from your back. you shriek loudly at them, a bloodcurdling sound that cracks the windows. “lucky”

“Sign up for the acapella group!” “sign up for chess club!” “sign up for magic the gathering club!” they all meet at the same time. they all have the same four members. “i can’t,” you say “I have class.” they look at you like you have five heads. they do not remember class

your residence hall is having an event later. you tell yourself you’re going to go. you forget and curl up in your bed instead. darkness surrounds you and tucks you in. you don’t want to leave your bed. your bed is safe (you still don’t know from what) the next morning you wake up and see that your residence hall is having an event later. you tell yourself you’re going to go.

someone: you need to make a decision!

me: *starts crying*