I Solemnly Swear That I Am Up To No Good

honestly i love the entire “woman falls for fearsome supernatural creature that truly loves her and treats her well instead of her intended human suitor who is only interested in the status marrying her will bring them and doesn’t care about her happiness” genre because it combines all of the things i look for in an ideal romantic partner: someone tall and strong, but tender and kind, who cares about my happiness, and fangs

How you, yes, YOU, can be both PUNK and A PRETENTIOUS BASTARD (dark academic) at the SAME TIME.

(yes, I do recognise that making a 'how-to' type list is basically the opposite of punk, leave me alone.)

Read poetry (I highly recommend John Cooper Clarke).

Be angry all the time, not at people around you, but at capitalism, social injustice, the government, and societal constructs.

Read Marx.

Doc Martens should be your best friend. Yes, they're expensive. But they're also high quality and will last you a lifetime (I've had a pair for about five years now, and they've literally grown with me).

Ratty blazers are cool.

Drink fruit juice, don't take drugs. In the beginning, the punk movement was very anti-drugs, so gangs of them would get together to drink fruit juice instead.

Only quote the insults from Shakespeare's works.

Wash your hair in beer. (Just trust me. My great grandmother washed her hair with beer, and she had great hair.)

Berets

Black velvet (whilst usually more goth) can definitely be adopted.

Know that 'modern' or 'new' doesn't necessarily mean 'better'.

Go to protests, talks, lectures, anywhere where you might be able to make a difference. Say something about anything you feel passionately about, don't stand for things you feel are wrong.

our lady of sorrows has seven swords peircing her heart signifying her seven earthy and heavenly sorrows

Moodboard: Dead Poets Society. 

“Carpe, carpe. Carpe diem. Seize the day, boys. Make your lives extraordinary.”

reading through my first ever austen novel

John Banville, The Sea 

[Text ID: “The past beats inside me like a second heart.”]

TSH Moodboard: Henry & Richard

‘Henry?’ I said at last, my voice scarcely more than a whisper. He let the cigarette fall from his fingers and took a step towards me. It really was him - damp, ruddy cheeks, snow on the shoulders of his overcoat. ‘Good God, Richard,’ he said, ‘what’s happened to you?’ It was as much surprise as I ever saw him show. I stood where I was, staring, unbalanced. Things had got too bright. I reached for the door frame, and the next thing I knew I was falling, and Henry jumped forward to catch me. He eased me onto the floor and took off his coat and spread it over me like a blanket. ‘Where did you come from?’ I said. ‘I left Italy early.’ He was brushing the hair back from my forehead, trying to get a better look at my cut. I saw blood on his fingertips.

at this point? my days include procrastination, not reading anything or finishing the whole damn book in an hour and forgetting to eat or eating my whole fridge. there is no in between.