swings so mixed-ly between enchanting and unsettling

i thought i would never be a poetry person only for my first ever poetry books to be soul-melting so now i fear every next poetry i read is now going to be able to reach what for me is the normal🙈😭

reading good books is torture

okay, maybe age gap, professor-student romances aren't that THAT bad...........you just have to make them gay  


(*joking* obviously) 

beautiful writing☺️

ufffff…….. i mean, yeah, i get it, the girl is crushing bad for their fellow artistic badass girlies, good for you Mercedes
meanwhile im in finals week and my attempts at crawling out of this reading slump are more tiring than the actual slump in itself 

whether if you believe in this theory or not (i myself am not entirely realistically convinced by it) i find it precious and incredibly wholesome in a not-corny-but-rather-useful way 

⁕⁑⁛we are the average of our 5 closest ¿loved? ones⁛⁑⁕

like, okay, even if you don’t believe this to be true and think is a wronged failed try to simplify a person, even if that’s the case, think about it, can the majority of you be composed as a sum of different characteristics from your most inner circle (either former or current)? can you trace back to the most defining moments in your life and identify your partners in crime, or mentors or…..idk?

🩵i know i do tho

this just goes to further prove to me what i already knew 
there is no sweet medium with virginia and i 
i either scream shout and agonise with her writing or fall asleep out of boredom

both occurred with this book 🪨🪩

Slater's pins have no points: 
yeah, i get it virginia, the good old lesbian fantasy of hooking up in a cathedral
we have all been there girl

and, once again, what did we learn, class?......exactly........all historical lesbians were connected

gods, i fuckin love them

feminist or not, troubled, artistic, intelligent women gosthing each other and making sad art or revolutionary actions, longing sadly for each other whilst hurting their soul mates, immortalising their hearts in correspondences a few lonely kids can cry with a few centuries later

feminist sapphic Heaven must be amazing up there

this just hit differently
this is me
sarah gets it 
this is me, a lost empty ever-longing girl with perpetual birthday blues

too sad to cry-sasha sloan

am too down bad for slowburns at this point?