Giveaway Contest: We’re giving away fifteen vintage paperback classics by Homer, Walt Whitman, Carson McCullers, Ray Bradbury, John Steinbeck, Shakespeare, and others! Won’t this collection look lovely on your shelf? :D
To win these classics, you must: 1) be following macrolit on Tumblr (yes, we will check. :P), and 2) reblog this post. We will choose a random winner on August 19, at which time we’ll start a new giveaway. And yes, we’ll ship to any country. Easy, right? Good luck!
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talents include looking 12 and saying thank you to the bus driver
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Someone send me some writing prompts for my character Dragica. I’m supposed to be writing her novel for my creative writing module for uni, but I can’t find my muse for the plot atm. All my love ❤️
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Kinda miss the days when rp was pure, mindless fun. Now I don’t have time for it and it just becomes another stress. I miss it.
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It’s a violent thing to be alive
Devin Kelly, from “Look at What I’m Looking At” published in Prelude (via lifeinpoetry)
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Plan for the rest of the day:
- put dinner on
- do replies
- make starter
- finish/restart self-para
- spark notes the French lueitenant’s woman
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Hey I feel weird messaging you off anon bc I only talk to you on your rp acc but I'm really to hear about your girlfriend 💕
Hey it’s okay! Thank you so much, I appreciate it. I’m starting to feel better slowly. I just need some time to think things through a bit. Thank you ❤️
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My gf broke up with me and I just feel like I’m in this hazy state of not knowing what is real or not. Like it was something I dreamed, but I know it happened, obviously. It just feels weird :/
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I gave you my heart and that’s all I can give you, and if that’s not enough, then I’m not enough.
Unknown
(via thoughtkick)
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Beware of the quiet kind people like me, we are filled with rage of being used so i might spit fire and turn with no regret if you do me wrong.
Bambi
(via purplebuddhaquotes)
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… I wonder
if I will ever find a language
to speak of the things
that haunt me the most.
Bao Phi, from “Vocabulary,” Thousand Star Hotel (via edensgalore)
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I had two longings and one was fighting the other. I wanted to be loved and I wanted to be always alone.
Jean Rhys, Wide Sargasso Sea
(via theliteraryjournals)
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[…]
I burn’d
And ached for wings,
John Keats, from “Ode on Indolence,” in Selected Poems (Bloomsbury Poetry Classics). (via existential-celestial)
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One of the hardest things you will ever have to do, my dear, is to grieve the loss of a person who is still alive.
Anonymous
(via thelovejournals)
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