“One Day You Will Thank Yourself For Never Giving Up.”

Me on the verge of crying and having to friend request my brother on discord so I can ask him to bring me food because my abdomin hurts and my legs feel reminiscent of jello with the incorrect quantity of gelatin in it:

I always knew I needed to keep a clear mind. It was helpful in every sense, but I found it so difficult to achieve, especially when I was conscious of my state of mind. I held my head in my hands, bent over with my elbows digging into my knees. The green park bench didn't help anything either, it was rough, uneven and uncomfortable. The air around me was cold but not harsh on my skin, and gentle winds tousled my hair and swept it to a side. The kindly breeze kept me company, I think it was the only things stopping me from crying.  I inhaled slowly, pushing my hair back with a hand. I closed my eyes and leaned back on the old bench, one of the planks dug into my back but I didn't mind. My head tilted towards the sky, I steadied myself. Slowly, like the forest waking from winter, I opened my eyes. The sky was a light gray, it wasnt unusual to see this sort of cloud cover, even early in spring. Unfortunately, the world told me it wasn't going to rain. I stay stilled for several moments, taking in everything. The smell of late winter, the taste of coffee still resting on my tongue, the sound of the winter rustling the bare limbs of trees. As I breathed, becoming one with my atmosphere, a small speck of white came into vision against the only slightly darker sky. It gently danced through the air and was quickly joined by friends like it. The snowflakes laughed like children and ran around, hopping, skipping and jumping as they descended down through the air, become calmly landing on my face and glasses. I smiled despite myself and previous mood, isn't it funny how quickly things can change? How quickly the walzt of snow fall turned into a slumber and blankets the world in white.

Good weather always brings out the best in my writing

Chaotic Academia Spotify Playlists: The Complete Collection

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3q0JPpoeoSfYB4njmfRj7K?si=B0heqlLUSqelVpfkl2oo0Q&utm_source=copy-link

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6EWrhl3niUYQOIkPdc5zJ1?si=ddfoegERTeeZxVn923KImw&utm_source=copy-link

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6MsyW5iZV5ldq8UW4mULFQ?si=m7ULmehUSuefTIOVOEPcsA&utm_source=copy-link

Some choatic academia playlist for your aching souls.

(from top to bottom)

Wake up sleepy head! - upbeat morning playlist

Hoodies over dress shirts - a collaborative all around playlist

Oversized t-shirt and a book - calm evening playlist

Hope you enjoy!

A handfull of weeks ago I bought this really old book from a vintage store. And I don't just mean from 50 years ago or something, I mean from like 100 years ago. It's in German or something, and I can't read it. But it was so interesting I just had to bring it home. The number in the cover says 1860 and I know the book itself was around since 1881 from the first of many signatures and dates on the inside.

Im a bit cautious about touching it since it's badly damaged but here are some photos. Anyone know what language/book this is? What's it about? So curious

I'm not googling this just to prove you wrong, Im googling this because you mentioned a topic I'm very interested in

Doing some homework

I hate when people don't believe me when I say I'm good without something.

You don't have to buy me things to win my affection, I'm not trying to be considerate of your finances, I just don't want a drink. It's okay. Sometimes I'm just not hungry and I'm not interested in that last cookie. It's okay that I really like that thing, I just don't want it. I know that eating it right now isn't what will make me feel good.

Why can't friends and family respect that I sometimes don't want things, sometimes I just want a glass of cold water with a straw. And that's good enough for me.

Sometimes it doesn't even need to be related to the inspiration! One time I really needed to pee, and that inspired a slice of life, coming of age story about a group of JDs in the modern day. And pee comes into it a total of one times.

My inspirations for making all my stories:

I'm doing an action and that action could be a story!

I'm listening to a song and that song could be a story!

I'm feeling an emotion and that emotion could be a story!

I'm copeing using escapism!

I like this story and can't get it out of my head!

I have an issues with this story and want to fix it!

I can't sleep!

Just realized I could post my slightly terrible poetry on here

the perception of academics as all out-of-touch rich white cis straight men is also absolutely not limited to this website (which plays into it both from a dark academia perspective and from a more anti-elitist/verging on anti-intellectual perspective). it is also 100% a thing on actual college campuses, even when physically face to face with professors who are people of color, women, lgbtq, disabled, and very much plugged in to the workings of the world. there is a profound difficulty in seeing that the people who teach us are in many ways like us.