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iespeciallyme · 2 hours ago
Astronomy: May 16th, 2021 - Crooked Constellations
May 16th, 2021 Crooked Constellations
Have you ever wondered if the constellations in the sky that the visionaries and dreamers go to sleep thinking about at night are perfect like everyone tells you they are? From Earth, we connect the stars in long, straight lines, which never shirk the path they've been assigned to travel on. On Earth, they have grand names of queens, warriors, and legendary animals, like Andromeda, Cassiopeia, Orion, and Taurus. But are they as beautiful, and legendary as everyone proclaims them to be, or are they just hiding in the undecipherable exegesis of stardust and sunlight?
From time to time when I'm in the city, staring at a blank surface, a black hole that sucks up all the diamonds and substitutes them with an air of nothingness. And, the same mat, the same sky in the villages that are full of golden sunlight and lush grass, the colors change, undergo metamorphosis like a butterfly, unveiling its star-flecked wings. 
And when I look at the stars in this view, I wonder, what if we didn't join the stars by stiff, abrupt, white lines, rather with arching, silky curves, with sharp turns, and constant U-turns. What would our sky look like to the world then?
Would it look like the same endless and overflowing bowl of diamonds and dark, or would it warp into a mess, like a child's scribbles on a white wall?
Every time I looked at the sky, I used to draw words, animals, and glyphs in it, all with fraudulent and broken lines, one my geometry teacher would never approve of in an exam.
And then, it hit me.
Our constellations aren't the same, and they never will be, if we look at them from another planet. To Mercury, The Big Dipper may look like a Big Black Hole, and to Pluto, Orion may look like a dot. How brilliantly perspective changes things.
Our sky, our beautiful, perfect sky, wasn't perfect. To be perfect, everyone had to believe you were, but when everything is crooked, how can you be pure? 
You can't. 
It's that simple.
We are all part of crooked family trees with branches that are dark, black, and spoiled, parts of crooked oceans with beasts prepared to drag you down into the gloominess of the unexplored parts of the sea. We are all bricks in a crooked building, wherein at any point, it may collapse to pieces. We are also part of crooked constellations that show that our destinies that are written in the stars are quite the contrary to perfect.
We are all stars in crooked constellations.
But we still shine, as bright as we possibly would.
Taglist: @november-rage @lovebird-in-the-dark @nyctophilia-love-for-darkness @the-writing-avocado @the-girl-who-cried-wolf @johermione @eternal-bluefire @sizzlingdazebear @floralbeast @cheeseburstthoughts @princess-maram @wordsaremydiary @poeticattractions @livvyheronstairs @aakhyasharma
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sai-prasanna · 2 hours ago
We loved each other in circles, never reconciling once but drifting apart every second. To reach a hand, one had to fall; but with our feet on the ground, we chose to run further. And with paper hearts and yellowed letters, you loved me differently and so did I.
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ancientoptimism · 2 hours ago
Hello, old friend... Where have you been?
Were you running from something? Or running to someone? Did you find them? Or did you set yourself free?
I waited for you, left a cup of tea on the window sill for your arrival, each night. Did you forget me or was I always on your mind?
I needed you, my dear friend, in my darkest nights. Your usual light was sorely missed. Am I asking too much of you, am I being too ignorant?
Please let me know, dear friend, I’d hate for you to be push me away once again. The stars are lost and the sky is lifeless without you.
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the-moon-is-so-pretty · 3 hours ago
me in the morning looking at pictures of cats and frogs: nice :)
me @ 3am: what is life
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darkacademiatunes · 4 hours ago
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rainy weather combined with dark academia classical music. enjoy your day and follow me on spotify.
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edge-poetry · 9 hours ago
poem: astrology
we beat the odds
of all the stars,
we found each other
though it was in the shadows
of moonlight—
we weren’t made for each other,
different in every way,
but to quote the sciences
“everything has an
equal and opposite reaction”—
you’re my equal, my opposite,
my puzzle piece,
and the south to my north magnet—
you’re the other direction on the compass,
our paths were never destined to cross,
and even with the stars of the universe,
and the laws of the Earth,
proving we’re different—
i found the other half of all my analogies,
my soul twin,
the only girl i could
sit on mountain tops with—
and though God himself worked
for us to be split from each other,
i thank Him everyday
for the person i call my best friend.
-j.g. edge
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delhi-dark-academia · 10 hours ago
—i stare at my wall clock as it turns from six to seven then to eight, i haven't slept. i haven't slept properly since i was twelve. it seems like a mundane day, it's windy, there are black clouds all over it may rain. rain reminds me of him and there's a deep ache in my heart, a forever longing. every story has that one part which is disturbing.
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smilesandyearns · 11 hours ago
"He had come very close to forgetting, and it had only been the voice of his mother, unheard for so long, that had shaken him out of it".
•Franz Kafka, Metamorphosis
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smilesandyearns · 11 hours ago
"But what now, if all this peace and wealth and comfort should come to a horrible and frightening end?"
-Franz Kafka, Metamorphosis
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aristosacademic · 14 hours ago
is it so bad to wish to be a lighthouse attendant in the late 1800’s,,,,, alone by mysef for weeks at a time with only the sea and rain to keep me company,,,,, maybe with my favorite books and the lighthouse cat,,,,,,, PLEASE
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aisherk · 14 hours ago
Feel so productive at one moment
And next is, where wanna destroy the pit which shoves all sentiments.
Simply, I feel brutally unproductive like someone just closed the one way of my mind
So no a single source of chasing them out, head is boiling.
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ancientoptimism · 15 hours ago
Share facts about our universe with me, let your voice get slower as you try to emphasise your awe with the universe we float in. Let your eyes light up as you tell me about the sextillion stars that swamp our skies.
I’ll never get tired of our universe if you’re the narrator.
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poeticintrovert · 15 hours ago
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[He covered page after page with wild words of sorrow, and wilder words of pain. There is a luxury in self-reproach. When we blame ourselves we feel that no one else has the right to blame us. It is the confession, not the priest, that gives us absolution.]
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