Instagram: cosyacademia

it’s a very greek idea, and a very profound one.

Villa Borghese. Rome, Italy.

I'm once again fighting the urge to fake my death and move to a small city and open a little florist shop or cafe filled with books

fuck you, my child is completely fine!

your child romanticises the idea of running far away and completely changing their personality, looks & soul as a way of coping with having no control over their life & being generally dissatisfied with who they have become

Tiny Hornet Fimo Figure-

I recently got some moss and started growing it in a small container (that my followers on Instagram named Fern). And after silk song I couldn’t stop thinking about moss grotto.

So I added a little Hornet-

She is extremely tiny, can fit on top of my finger tip

Still really fun to make

Maybe I’ll add a little cage like in the trailer, and also a little ghost to a company her :)

fuck you for making me a poet.

This ain't getting better, Or is it?

the literature students

nights spent studying in the library, dozens of books piled on the desk before you

lingering in your favorite bookstore

debating with friends about your favorite authors

old books with faded bindings and handwritten notes in the margins

memorizing your favorite passages to recite back to yourself

overfilled bookshelves, volumes stacked on the floor by your bed

scribbling notes to yourself late at night, then trying to decipher them in the morning

beautiful handwriting scrawled across the page

worn out copies of your favorite books

wishing you could resurrect long-dead authors and poets

ribbon bookmarks tucked between pages

quotes by your favorite authors written on your walls

libraries with bookshelves that tower to the ceiling, books as far as the eye can see

carrying a book with you everywhere you go

fancy volumes with gilded edges

deep analysis, dissecting themes and diction and metaphor

leaning forward in your seat during class, eager to share your insights

researching your favorite authors, beginning to understand why they wrote how they did

handwritten copies of poems pinned up by your desk

the ache of finishing a particularly good book, knowing you’ll never read it for the first time again

annotating writing in your favorite pen

a sense of comfort anywhere you’re surrounded by books