Inside You Are Two Wolves. One Is Diet Coke Heart-shaped Sunglasses Vintage Diners Red Nail Polish Lollipops

thunderstorms in summer, freckles, flowers pressed between the pages of a book, lemonade, daisy chains, bare feet on dewy grass, blackberry juice on lips and fingers, messy braids, stargazing, collecting pretty rocks from streams, late night birdsong, flowers tucked behind ears, daydreaming

i find it so charming that so many ancient civilisations - if not most of them - believed in gods of some sort. like, the world was so inexplicably incredible that, to them, it could be the work of nothing but the divine.

i was born in the wrong era. i was supposed to live in the 80s. the 1880s. i was destined to be some rich, idle, ill-fated protagonist of a victorian gothic novel and smoke cigarettes and wear rich fabrics and carry a cane with a carved top and write long, rambling letters in an illegible font to some close friend i may or may not be utterly infatued by and drink red wine at lavish dinners every other night and discuss philosophy and hedonism and sprawl dramatically across chaise longues and and-

i would love to be able to see the moon through the eyes of some human from thousands of years ago. like, a magic silver orb in the sky that changed shape and colour and moved?? the world must be so much more beautiful when viewed with no context.

chaotic academia is learning latin on duolingo

it's always "I love you" and never "cubitum eamus?"

it's just me and my overly intricate daydream plot against the world

Sorry I’m not here, I’m mentally at Francis's country house thinking about when Henry smile there is a slight chip in one of his front teeth and it gave his smile a very engaging quality

literally all i want in life rn is a thunderstorm. like i wanna wear an oversized cardigan that i can wrap around myself whilst i sit gloomily at a window watching the slashes of silver lightning streak the sky with a mug of hot berry tea and a candle to read a jane austen novel by. pls.