I Love Them Both

AUTUMN SONATA (1978) dir. Ingmar Bergman

Memories of Alerie Florent

Finally made a tumblr account last night. Still at a bit of an loss with everything, the app truly does come off as imposing as people say. The long-term plan is to start something of a personal little blog here, so stay tuned for that I guess????

rhaenys targaryen, the queen who never was

poster of the 1st pink floyd’s concert in ussr, 1989

On the train for the first time in like, 10 years. Gosh I feel like a little kid again. I strode myself through the passenger cars, gandering at the cool, button-opened doors, peeking through the windows at the passing night-lit townscape, even stopping once to look at a fucking wall of a hallway, all while grinning like an absolute buffoon and earning few laughs from my fellow third-years returning from the school cruise with me. It's in these situations where I really do feel most alive, I think. The kind of mundane, yet special-feeling moments like these. So glad to be alive.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Your Turn ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Cloudless moon-lit night tonight where I live. Spent probably good 20 minutes wrapped in my blanket outside, in the cold just admiring up at the sky. Many times I've embarrassingly unsuccessfully tried to put into words just what exactly looking up at the moon makes me feel, what it does to me really. It's a painful cliche, but the feeling is very akin to inspiration for me, and maintaining my dignity as a writer really the most I dare to try explain here. It really is no wonder to me that the moon has through out human history been such a universal object of worship. If it's beauty is able to make me, a person living in the 21st century, where every scientific aspect regarding the moon's allure has been thoroughly researched snd deciphered, feel just so inspired time and time again, I wonder what kind of effect it had to the average neolithic hunter-gatherer for example, to whom the moon was a complete mystery and its mystique completely unshrouded.