Adapted From A Workshop I Did At My High School Writing Center. One Of My More Helpful Powerpoints; Let

dark academia tips:

reading Byron with the glass of red wine

staying up all night listening to Chopin and Vivaldi

having a big library and borrowing your favourite books to your friends

laying on the grass and looking at the stars at midnight

spending a lot of money on fashionable clothes

having dates in theatres

rewatching old movies

attending museums and exhibitions

drinking champagne with your friends while reading poems

I await a darling with the most literate of tongues and the most revolutionary of minds who whispers Shakespeare sonnets onto my lips at moonrise and enriches, enlightens me with art and poetry and language that will leave me gasping for air.

you know what i want? a friend group in which everyone has read plato , aristotle and the secret history by donna tartt or has at least watched dead poets society and loves literature, poetry , philosophy , art and we can just talk about all these and our fear of academic failure . a friend group in which we can read classics together and talk about the deeper meaning of life and rant about how much of a failure this society is . i want to share my passion for life and writing and all the things i mentioned with someone that will be equally as excited as i am .

“We mistook violence for passion, indolence for leisure, and thought recklessness was freedom.”

~ Toni Morrison (The Bluest Eye)

Classics

I cannot wait the day I get to major in English. I want to immerse myself in Shakespeare and other british poets and authors. To learn about the culture and history of Britain and to speak this lovely language like my own again. The need is consuming me.

This, this is the key!

#cancer #autumn #professor #englishliterature

reblog this with your star sign, favourite season, and dream career in the tags.

just imagine

you are at a small liberal arts college in vermont, you study classics, and now you are sitting in the library which smells like dust, old books, and france. you and your small circle of friends with whom you study classics are sitting on the floor in a corner of the library where nobody goes at nearly two in the morning, with all of the old greek, french, and latin books. you are all studying or working on papers or translating books in silence, except for classical music playing on a radio next to you with the volume soft enough that only the few of you can hear it in your little corner of the library. the smell of coffee and tea mixes and wafts around all of you from the small disposable Styrofoam cups that are sitting on the carpet, which you got from the teachers lounge since your classics teacher allows you to go in there and raid it whenever you please. in the middle of the circle of all of you is a variety of stationery scattered in a jumble: pens (fountain and ballpoint), loose leaf papers with unspecified scrawled writing, a lexicon, and other writing and studying tools. suddenly, your friend sitting next to you, with whom you are closest in the group, taps you and slips you a paper discreetly. you unfold it and it says, “cubitum eamus?” you look up, make sure no one is looking, and nod.