Love As Violence

― Virginia Woolf, A Passionate Apprentice: The Early Journals, 1897-1909

[text ID: I belong to quick, futile moments of intense feeling. Yes, I belong to moments. Not to people.]

I have no idea how to rest. 🧍🏽‍♀️

I don’t know what I am without my textbooks. 🧍🏽‍♀️

“People shouldn't be afraid of their government. Governments should be afraid of their people.” -V for Vendetta

this assignments so hard i can’t even romanticize doing it

Look at you comforting others with words you wish to hear.

William Wordsworth

one thing i’ve realized is that it is extremely important to value platonic relationships over romantic relationships.

friendships and connections with your family members last longer and are more stable than someone you have been dating for 4 months. it almost makes me upset how society has conditioned us to believe that we need to ‘find love’ to be happy when we had it right in front of us this whole time. it shows how truly ungrateful some of us are, especially some of us who want to get into a romantic relationship for validation, out of insecurity, and the fear of being alone; or people who leave friendships as soon as they find the ‘the one’

please reblog this if it is okay to anonymously confess something to you.

Indian Dark Academia - Delhi (mystery academia)

You spend most of your summer afternoons roaming around the monuments, marveling over the minds of people long gone. you find an old vendor outside Qutub Minar, seated with large stacks of books in front of her. Secrets Of Delhi, the cover of the one hidden beneath the rest says. The vendor mumbles its price and you ignore the chill you feel crawling down your spine when you catch her smiling at you.

The dim light of your candle flickers as you flip through the pages of the book the vendor sold to you. The moon hangs low in the sky, as if intent to see what mysteries you'll unveil. What the Sultans tried to hide, stories buried by time, dangerous lores that might be true; you feel the words sear into your eyes. You brush them off as fictional gibberish as you get ready for bed but you couldn't shake off the feeling that you're being watched. The shadows in the corner of your room shift as if in confirmation.

You vaguely remember your history professor mentioning a mad astrologer who claimed there was a "disastrous" planetary alignment during 1757. Exactly a century before the First War of Independence. You cannot help but think of him now as you run your hand over the walls of Jantar Mantar.

You're strolling through the Red Fort and you find undecipherable inscriptions on a pillar of the Diwan-i-khas. You let your fingers trace the letters as you realize that something strange happened here.

The voices of a hundred sufi saints ring in your ears and your dreams are haunted with memories that aren't yours. You catch glimpses of harems and princesses dancing. A sword dripping with blood and a body buried in the hush of the night. Ruins of deserted mughal palaces where you could still hear the voice of a wailing woman. Delhi's beautiful but she's got her secrets.

"Forgive me, for all the things I did but mostly for the ones that I did not.” (ouch)

The secret history by Donna Tart

If We Were Villains by M. L. Rio

“Do you think the universe fights for souls to be together? Some things are too strange and strong to be coincidences.”

— Emery Allen