Latest Posts by coffeerson - Page 3

might fuck around and only wear tweed, turtlenecks and oxfords, drink worrying amounts of coffee, leave my apartment only to sit in a small cafe and read paperbacks, have a close friendship with underlying homoeroticism,,

― Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Idiot

Rationalizing the irrational

fuck wrapped, how obscure are yall

@<3

You became like coffee, in the deliciousness, and the bitterness, and the addiction.

Mahmoud Darwish

the older i get, the more i need time & personal space to be as boring as possible

honestly henry winter

in my mind Henry finished the translation of Paradise Lost and Richard found it in the glove compartment of Henry's car after his death

To be human.

The coolness of hate turning warm under a tender touch.

Salty tears watering a dried up husk, soft hands soothing aching eyes.

Heart held devotion and tired bitter lies.

Life so fleeting, as swift as a bird. Moments that ground us to roots of this earth.

To be human is run fast and fall, but never to give up and to always laugh at that dizzying gall.

If I had wings I'd learn to swim, for this life is a cliffegde and I won't jump on a whim.

what if richard just died during the whole pneumonia/frostbite plotline. and the rest of the story is followed by him as an unreconciled ghost, haunting and influencing his classmates until he gets a resolved ending to their story at Hampden. when he sees henry's ghost at the end of the novel he's not actually dreaming, he's on the plain of the dead with him where dead souls trap themselves by obsessing over their past lives. and ever since henry died, he hasn't yet moved on to the afterlife; he's been waiting for the moment richard finally lets go of his life on earth so they can leave together. and when richard, after haunting each individual classmate for years, finally accepts there's nothing more left to the fantasy of his greek class other than misery, he decides that he's finally done, and moves on with henry to the afterlife.

Damnation by Clara

depraved and withered. deprived and starved. they watch as i wallow in my despair in agony. they do not deny my suffering, simply ignoring it. the hatred, the tension. it’s all become too much for my tortured soul. wretched, corrupt, wicked. dark, evil, ornery. all my souls passions received in damnation.

I'm sure someone has mentioned this before but did Henry's medication increase his state of boredom with the modern world? I've seen people mention that Henry seemed to be depressed and there are articles saying that phenobarbital (which he took for his headaches) can increase depressive disorder and suicidal ideation

These studies focused on kids with epilepsy and Henry didn't mention if he took this at a younger age but he did say he used to have more headaches when he was 13/14

And this is not me saying that the medication is the cause of his being I'm more just wondering what are the implications of the medication on the evolution of the character and the story. Like bestie Donna what did you mean

Richard Papen, while freezing in a fucking mandolin boutique during the rigid winter of Vermont: California dreamin'... (California... dreamin'...) on such a winter's day...

NEVER OVERDRESSED

NEVER OVEREDUCATED

I think we should talk more about the fact that Henry is basically the personification of the "beauty is terror" quote – hence, the concept of the Sublime. Richard found him to be the most beautiful out of the whole group – not in the in the literal sense, obviously, but in the sense that Henry was the one he looked up to, admired and eventually idolized the most out of them. Even after the murder and all that happened afterwards because of him, after finding out how terrifying he could actually be, Richard still couldn't let go of his initial impression of him, and kept on thinking fondly of him despite everything he'd done – and so did all the others. Henry kept them all together, then wronged them so many times, and in the end he still left them all with that lingering ghost of him they were never able to get rid of.

i consume too much caffeine, don’t sleep enough and don’t read enough.

also i have to spend more time in nature.

i need to touch grass so i can feel alive.

Yesterday I was talking with a friend of mine about what to write in a dating app bio and the only things I could come up with were:

I love studying (knowing more and more make me feel better than anything you'll do, potential lover), I love a good conversation (but if you'll know more than me then, believe me, I would do research just to beat you), I love reading (mainly morbid, strangely creepy yet beautiful books I will end up relating to, somehow, despite my dull life), I love playing cards (and I am way too competitive about it), I love gin and tonic (nothing to say about that) and plants (back with things to say because I can never keep them alive, beware, I am a murderer in my own right).

i don’t want a job i want to read good books and drink good coffee and get kissed on the neck

cant wait to start feeling normal again I think to myself knowing that i have not once felt normal not at all my whole life not ever

no more "in my humble opinion", from now on it's "from my grandiose and objectively correct deductions".

"If reincarnation is real I wonder how many people stare at their own art in museums, listen to their own music they made in a different life and read books they don't remember writing"

~ Unknown

tacenda

(n.) things better left unsaid; matters to be passed over in silence

~I dance on the glass, we dance in each other's eyes and in the madness I push you away because you recognized the bitterness of my soul.~

23 august. Something is not right. There's a soul on my windowsill.

"I don't want to be alone. I need my family."

Bitch, you don't want to live in small apartment by yourself, baking by yourself, reading and listening to your favorite music in peace? Nobody's watching, judging, just silent. That's my fucking dream bro.

flowers are slowly dying in my room

I'm rotting with them in dirty water

invariably for centuries

invariably for centuries.

16.08

kalopsia

(n.) the delusion of things being more beautiful than they really are

~If I were the last man on earth would I be more human or would I lose the rest of my humanity?~