Donna Tartt developed some of the most stoic, serious, and selfish characters I’ve ever seen. The way she made every character in the Greek Class horribly unemotional for one another, really adds to the terror of the book.
That is one reason I wish she would’ve been able to keep the initial title of the book: The God of Illusions. Because that is the backbone of this group; it’s all just an illusion of friendship, an illusion that they care. They don’t care for one another, none of them are overly concerned about anyone but themselves. They are all extremely solitary people that came together for the look of being able to have friends, rather than for the want of friendship.
one thing i need to start living by is “become the thing that you want” if i want friends who throw themed parties maybe i should start throwing those parties. if i want someone who writes me love letters maybe i should start writing letters for the people i love. if i want to hang out at museums and pretty cafes maybe i should invite my friends to these places. and maybe even then i won’t find the kind of people i want to be around. but then i would have become the exact person i want to be around. and maybe that’s good enough.
the divine, only in dreams
The birds have vanished into the sky
and now the last cloud drains away
We sit together the mountain and me
until only the mountain remains
~ Li Po
sneak peek of my bookshelf
one day my bookshelves will be filled with penguin classics. one day.
that one day is going to happen tomorrow 💖
one day my bookshelves will be filled with penguin classics. one day.
- pinning the most difficult equations you solved to your wall. Or just the ones you find beautiful
- lots of plants, their names written in the pots. Trying different ways to grow them.
- always having lab gloves in your bag or pockets.
- writing ideas for projects in messy notes, putting them between the pages of your notebooks and forgetting about it
- hands dirty with black ink because you’ve been writing for too long too fast
- massive books under your arms, laptop full of carefully tagged papers while the printed ones are a total mess
- insane eyes and absolute euphoria when you finally understand not only the concept, but where did it came from and how it applies on your daily life
- hair always in a bun or ponytails, short finger nails and none jewelry because ~lab rules~
- searching until late at night the exact equipment the scientists used long ago, what methods they used and imagining how would it be to be in their place.
- Feeling as comfortable in the lab as in the library.
- you hate Victor Frankenstein but legit understand why.
- sore eyes from microscope or screen light, aching backs, still not wanting to leave
- looking at people and thinking about how they truly are: organs, cells, molecules, atoms, protons, eletrons, quarks, leptons…. nothing as one would think, everything, all the same, too big, too little, all pieces from a big puzzle
- dreaming about the topic you were studying last day
- having an idea about a paper while talking to your friends. Remembering that is not your field and going crazy because SOMEONE needs to research it.
- you are crazy to read some fiction but there are too many papers waiting for you
- You should be used by now but sometimes still get distracted about how graphics changes according to compartments added.
- finishing a big problem and just staring at it, amazed by how it was unfolded and reorganized until you get to the final answer
- “we don’t know….yet”
- ethics committee?? How about just test it myself, uh?(that new receipt that later comes out a absolute disaster)
- suddenly knowing how to solve a problem in the middle of a lunch
- notebooks margins filled with equations or formulas vs pages almost blank, with just one note or two
- mental breakdowns after classes thay change your perspective completely
- knowing that the truth depends on how further you can see. We’re always getting closer. Never there.
- Looking at an art piece, wondering what kind of ink was used, how it was when it was made, how time has affected it
— Vincent van Gogh, from a letter to Theo
[text ID: but the sunflower is mine in a way.]