As I’m Trying To Come To Terms With Whatever The Fuck That Was, I’ve Decided That:

my handwriting before coffee:

my handwriting after coffee:

Some fans: Eloise is such a fake feminist, doesn't she see how some girls and women enjoy marriage? Doesn't she see how her privileges give her luxuries others don't? She's so selfish. She doesn't even use her words to support other women!

Also same fans: I wish Eloise would stop talking, like her speaking about feminism at every turn is getting old. Can't she just be quiet and let everyone enjoy the fun? Like yeah talking about women's lack of personhood without a male figure in society, or how they can't go to university, or how sometimes they marry men who will only hurt them but need to for their status is sad to see, but THE ROMANCE-

The same crowd that gets on Eloise’s neck about being rich and privileged and unaware of how hard other people’s lives are is the same crowd that trashed her for spending time with Theo, seeing more of the world outside of the ton, learning more about women’s rights and the world around her and called her selfish for wanting more than to spend her life as a man’s trophy-on-a-shelf

Almost like you guys don’t actually want her to grow and expand her worldview, you’re just waiting for Scumbag Ph*lip to come and completely destroy her spirit and punish her for thinking she could possibly do more with her life than be a wife and mother

And what exactly was so selfish about her spending time with Theo? You guys love Benophie as if the class difference isn’t also a factor there

do me a solid and just reblog this saying what time it is where you are and what you’re thinking about in the tags.

4/7 midterms complete 🫠

life update: moving to a big city for my internship!

uni singlehandedly killing my time, my social life, my will to live, my hobbies, my sleep schedule, my appetite, my hair, my skin, my confidence AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Lorelei

by Sylvia Plath

It is no moon to drown in: A full moon, river lapsing Black beneath bland mirror-sheen,

The blue water-mists dropping Scrim after scrim like fishnets Though fishermen are sleeping,

The massive castle turrets Doubling themselves in a glass All stillness. Yet these shapes float

Up toward me, troubling the face Of quiet. From the nadir They rise, their limbs ponderous

With richness, hair heavier Than sculptured marble. They sing Of a world more full and clear

Than can be. Sisters, your song Bears a burden too weighty For the whorled ear's listening

Here, in a well-steered country, Under a balanced ruler. Deranging by harmony

Beyond the mundane order, Your voices lay siege. You lodge On the pitched reefs of nightmare,

Promising sure harborage; By day, descant from borders Of hebetude, from the ledge

Also of high windows. Worse Even than your maddening Song, your silence. At the source

Of your ice-hearted calling -- Drunkenness of the great depths. O river, I see drifting

Deep in your flux of silver Those great goddesses of peace. Stone, stone, ferry me down there.

WIPs are still works in progress even if no progress has been made on them for a while.