“I lived in a house in Moscow once, where the beams and floorboards were made from an old ship’s timbers. When there was a storm at sea, the timbers used to creak and groan, even though the air around the house was quite still. The house was very old, and those timbers hadn’t been near the sea for a hundred years or more, but still they remembered. In their dreams they heard it sing.”
— Cynthia Harrod-Eagles, Anna (via countcracula)
Set of taxidermied mole bookends that I kind of wish I’d had £320 and a massive gothic library for
(Red Brick Market, Baltic Triangle, Liverpool)
“I could not stop wasting time. It was crazy. I wanted to do something with my life, but instead I went to sleep, or sung in the shower, or sat and stared at the wall. I couldn’t even tell you about anything that I saw. I didn’t talk to anybody. The cicadas kept dying outside, and as I dreamed, my mouth grew thick and venomous with silence.”
— Yiwei Chai, The Jacaranda Years (via crowsummer)
being a woman is like…yeah lol you can pursue self-fulfillment and happiness on the side but don’t forget your main eternal quest is for unattainable beauty and ritual degradation
concept: we wake up one day and nature has grown decades overnight. we can’t remember where the roads used to be. in some places the trees are so tall and thick we can barely see sky. the grass hasn’t been mowed in years. how quiet everything is now
being as i am an idiot, and having been one my whole life, i just wanna say that i find it very easy to do nothing, and go nowhere. i eat chocolate late at night in the dark. i stand in the garden also. and i’m often waiting for something to happen. and i’m stupid.