*sits Forward In My Wizard Chair* Ah Yes...i Have Just The Remedy For Such An Ailment. *hands You A Strawberry*

Concept: it's 1am and you are reading your favorite novel. The world around you is asleep, sounds of the day have quieted and you are alone with your books and coffee or tea.

A Quiet Sin

You sway me to the rhythm of the orchestra as your hands move in such a calculated way that I cannot help but to wonder what is that you are planning. ‘Let’s find the music of our souls’, you whisper in my ear, dipping your head to me so that no one can overhear and make a scandal out of us. I shiver. How can I not when you look so handsome and the way your hands are so very careful but do not stop exploring in a way that can be denied as nothing more of a foreign waltz? Your eyes hypnotize, your lips beg for a kiss and all of you makes me want to sin.

- Ely C. Winters.

I read. Obsessively. Because, when I read, there is purpose to my loneliness.

want to respond to every noise not under my control by growling

Tell me a story

Tell me a story, a story unheard

Where in whisper so silent

Only few can be lured

If we knew what they all meant

Our lust might be cured

For curiosity is the cats game

And satisfaction will purr

The greed for knowledge, a name,

Can be caught only by a word.

normalize platonic “flirting”!!!! i just wanna be able to compliment my friends and point out little things i like about them!! i want to make them smile and have playful banter and laugh together and see them smile!!!!!!!!!!

i see so much beauty in people and i wonder if they see the same in me

— Andrei Tarkovsky, Sculpting in Time

[text ID: Perhaps the meaning of all human activity lies in the artistic consciousness, in the pointless and selfless creative act?]

Sing of pain

For there’s nothing more to gain

It’s known

That we have all faced this alone

We despaired

Because we though no one cared

An out reached hand

But I can no longer stand

It’s now too late for me

Fools, one and all, flee

Past Midnight poetry- Just a bit

Sometimes I feel a bit crazy

And a bit hazy

Like I know what’s happening only a bit after it happens

My words aren’t really my own

My brain doesn’t feel like me

And maybe it’s a bit scary

A bit sickening

That I am not living

What I want is peace and I can’t have it yet

I wander a bit here

Ponder a bit about something that maybe doesn’t matter

It’s a bit out of context but maybe I’m not real

My words might be

But I am never really me