january is fingerless gloves that i cuts the tips off of that now fray around my fingers. it’s holding onto my coffee for dear life as i walk between classes. it’s fuzz from my scarf stuck all over my pee coat and it’s free hot cocoa outside the library on tuesdays and thursdays. it’s a stiff chill in my bones that doesn’t leave until late in the evening when i’m curled up in my bed.
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Deciding what character I want to write my future fic about is choosing between:
1. a male character for Henry Winter, who will be one of the few people, who can understand him and be patient for him;
2. also a male character for Francis Abernathy, who will be a caring soul for his chaotic nature
Hmm...
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i just want my books to consume me devour me unstring my bones and spit me out reborn.
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“Does such a thing as "the fatal flaw," that showy dark crack running down the middle of a life, exist outside literature?”
― Donna Tartt, The Secret History
PD: Hi, I'm doing a survey on Aesthetics for my university research, anyone who knows what aesthetics are can answer and I'd be very happy!
Link to the survey
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Life is short. Drink another coffee. Read another book. Listen to your favourite song again. Hug your mom. Laugh. Cry. Dance in the rain. Push your friend off a cliff because of a milkshake.
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