Like if you save
finally time for your favorite knitted sweaters and turtlenecks
carving your favorite quotes and book characters into pumpkins
going on evening walks, listening to classical music while looking at all the beautiful trees
finding coffee shops and getting your favorite seasonal beverages
going to a second-hand bookstore, finding a new cafe and reading your new books right away
sitting under a tree as you read and study, occasionally pulling leaves out of your hair
snuggling up in a cozy armchair, tossing a blanket over your lap, and reading to the light of a pumpkin scented candle
decorating your room and bookshelf with skulls and other assortments
putting your headphones in to listen to podcasts as you rake leaves
staying up all night reading by a window, looking outside occasionally at the streetlamps, wondering if the ghost of oscar wilde is out there somewhere
ink smears on your fingers as you annotate poetry, looking out the window at the colors
opening a window to let the cool autumn air in as you study, a leaf blowing through and landing on your desk
anyways
peaky blinders → 5.01
If you feel sad, a walk in nature always clears your mind and heals it.
Times Square, 1978.
Details: The Angel appears to Hagar and Ishmael, 1640, by Gioacchino Assereto (Italian, 1600-1649)
i'm so jealous of people with such expansive and sophisticated vocabulary like for the love of god please stop using words i've never even heard of
I think a surprising amount of writers don’t realize that tragedies are supposed to be cathartic. They’re intended to result in a purging of emotion, a luxurious cry; the sorrow caused by a great tragedy is akin to fear caused by a good horror movie – it’s a “safe” sorrow, one that is actually satisfying to the audience. It can still be beautiful! It’s isn’t supposed to just be salting the earth so nothing can grow.
But that’s how you get grimdark: writers who don’t realize that they’re supposed to be doing something with the audience instead of to the audience.