i feel so full of magic that i swear one day i’ll scream and stories will come pouring out.
i’m restless, is the problem
restless for the solid feeling of knowing what i’m doing and that i like it
that my decisions have been good and i’m ok
not because things are bad but because i’m suspicious
that if things are going well i’ll mess it up —
one wrong step and everything goes off track again.
i’m restless for the wind that’s currently dampened by rain
restless for the afternoon light that’s currently halfway around the world
restless for that feeling not just of surety but contentment
the bounding off the pavement as i run
leaves crunching and scattering as the autumn light grows supple and gold
fading with the fastness of the late year
so that the day that was full and blue when i first left
has gone half twilight and half home when i return.
#the problem with posting anything like this is that sometimes i worry someone's going to take my complaining seriously#when actually 99% of the time my writing is upset it's because school is stressing me the fuck out and that's the only problem#i'm overdramatic af and overthink calculus that's all
softlyintothemist reblogged
spookykrennic-deactivated201710
‘You’re a storyteller. Dream up something wild and improbable,’ she pleaded. ‘Something beautiful and full of monsters.’
‘Beautiful and full of monsters?’
'All the best stories are.’
Strange the Dreamer, Laini Taylor (via orsonkraennic)
what can i do
when the night comes
and
i break into stars.
nayyirah waheed, from salt, osmosis (via weltenwellen)
hold your breath.
ok.
like this:
breathe into your hands until they're full
until you're overflowing to your fingertips with life
and you can feel a little bit of heartbeat that leaked out fluttering against your skin
warm, like this,
and full.
hold it until it's drained away like grains of sand and
breathe back in.
softlyintothemist reblogged
Residents of the Library: A Practical Guide for New Librarians
- The books
- Not to be disturbed unless there is an emergency
- The shelves
- Ask politely before attempting to clean, some are exceedingly fond of their dust
- The woman in the reference section who is perpetually searching for a certain unknown volume
- She will always refuse to tell you which one it is, but it’s good manners to ask her a few times a day anyway
- The cat with five eyes
- We recognize that this terminology can be confusing, as there are at least a dozen of the cat with five eyes living in the library, but each of them insists on being treated as though they’re the only one. Therefore, each of them is The Cat With Five Eyes
- Unidentified cryptid
- Possibly just The Cat With Five Eyes pulling a prank
- The lost child
- At this point we must assume, as the child has not aged or been picked up for several years, that it is not so much lost as it is stuck. In the meantime, until its parent returns, it must be placated hourly with new picture books or tantrums will be thrown
- Library patron
- ??????????
- The helpful ghost
- A benevolent presence that keeps trying to help shelve books and putting them back in the wrong place. Actually exceedingly unhelpful, but the title makes it so happy
- The Stacks Goblin
- DO NOT offer food!
- Shame on you, there’s no food allowed in the library anyway.
@beewo this seems useful for you to know.
witchbrarian
There’s a class on these folks in library school. It’s held in the basement and the instructor never shows up but somehow I got an A on the final.
softlyintothemist reblogged
new idea: hell chess
- all the basic rules are the same like playstyle wise
- trash talking is encouraged
- you get as much time as you need but if you look away from the board your turn is over
- the referee is yelling everything like a sports announcer and you cannot complain
- you can take one of your pieces from the board and throw it at your opponents head but you sacrifice that piece
- you have to name the king and queen something
fun additives to make the game unique:
- a. close your eyes and reach into a bag of about 48 chess pieces to pull out your sixteen pieces. whatever you get is what you play and you must follow the rules of those chess pieces. if you get four queens good luck. if you get no queens good luck
- b. the referee can decide to throw in as many checkers pieces as a time as they please, as long as equal pieces are distributed to both players. the players are now not only playing chess but also checkers on the same board.
leedoesotherstuff
my kinda chess
softlyintothemist reblogged
“your skin smells like light. i think you are the moon.”
- nayyirah waheed
softlyintothemist reblogged
“I would love to say
that you
make me
weak in the knees
but
to be quite upfront
and completely
truthful
you
make my body
forget
it has knees
at all.
Tyler Knott Gregson, Love Language (via literary-hack)
Source: thequotejournals
softlyintothemist reblogged
How To Be a Writer
- your veins are filled with ink
- stories float to the surface of your skin like monsters rising from the depths of the ocean
- blood is thicker than ink is thicker than water
- you are made of all of these and they wage war in every crevice of your skin
- the lines of your palm writhe with anger
- write me. write me. bring me to life.
- you are alive and they are not
- they would steal you away in pieces if they could
- fingers. eyes. heart.
- build themselves a body and leave, as if stories would not grow stories of their own and be stolen away in turn
- stories are angry. jealous. selfish.
- this is because they bloomed from whatever soil they could find in you
- there is no one to say you yourself are not a story who built itself a body and escaped.
mystrangesilhouettesblog-deacti
She has the moon in her mind, that’s why stars spill off her lips.
Camille. -s.p. (via paternalpadfoot)
How To Be a Writer
- your veins are filled with ink
- stories float to the surface of your skin like monsters rising from the depths of the ocean
- blood is thicker than ink is thicker than water
- you are made of all of these and they wage war in every crevice of your skin
- the lines of your palm writhe with anger
- write me. write me. bring me to life.
- you are alive and they are not
- they would steal you away in pieces if they could
- fingers. eyes. heart.
- build themselves a body and leave, as if stories would not grow stories of their own and be stolen away in turn
- stories are angry. jealous. selfish.
- this is because they bloomed from whatever soil they could find in you
- there is no one to say you yourself are not a story who built itself a body and escaped.
softlyintothemist reblogged
wherechalkwhitearrowsgo-deactiv
I can’t abandon
the person I used to be
so I carry her
365 Days of Haiku, Day #123 (via kassapti)
This is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever read.
(via mama-macabre)
I tell people I don’t regret any of my tattoos. This is why.
(via inkedscribbles)
So when I get angry, when I'm furious, I remind myself that there are stories in the lines of my palms, and no matter how much I'd like to punch someone, I won't crush those stories in my fists for anyone.
Too precious to ruin yet
it’s just that i’m pouring myself out, right? trying to fill all these things with me. trying to surround myself with more of myself. but it never holds. everything i pour out sloshes out of every vessel i try to hold it in and goes, somewhere, somewhere i can’t get it back from. can’t really fix that. i just have to hope that what i think right now is lost, rain sinking into dry dirt, is watering a garden of me that i’ll get later. someday i’ll wake up and be surrounded by what grew from the pieces of me that got lost along the way.
softlyintothemist reblogged
“On burning worlds he longed for chill wind and soft rain. From his lamentations, aliens assumed he was in love with someone named September.” -QuietPineTrees
softlyintothemist reblogged
“She grew apples in caves, gently spreading starlight on their leaves. The cider was the only way she could forget how much she missed space.” -QuietPineTrees