Dark Academism - Blog Posts
✷Replacing Reality with Phantom✷
Picture source: Pinterest
Dark academia moodboard
It feels special when someone holds your hand when you are walking in the dark.It feels as if you are the luckiest person of the earth. Infact ,it is lucky to have someone beside you, for you and with you when you are grinding in the dark-)RB
Silence is tolerable but the real heartbreak is when their eyes too stop speaking to you. -)RB
Your reflection in the mirror,
Is the image of moon at night formed in the river.
You are the amaranthine flower,
in the heart of your every admirer.
You are that gardener ,
Who make the Soul of every human blossom like a flower.
You are the Art
And
Being your connoisseur,
Makes us grow every day even better.
-)RB
i am so sorry i am only reading the secret history for the first time because i feel like i am missing a lot of details that can only be noticed by re-reading the book. i'm on chapter three and so far every chapter talks about immortality and "living forever." i am wondering if this will last longer and how it will be mentioned in the chapter with bunny's murder. if it will be mentioned at all?
and the whole third chapter can probably be considered the character's first test of the idea of immortality. and already here he faces reality - the proximity of death for any person, the fragility of life (and btw, it is significant that he does not fully realize that he can die, since life among his Greek circle makes him not think about it, they constantly repeat to him 'live forever' no one discusses death).
AND THIS IS WHEN MOST OF THE THINGS HE DID CARE TO TELL WERE LIES
CAN YOU IMAGINE A STRANGER ENTERING YOUR SMALL GROUP, HE IS VERY QUIET AND MYSTERIOUS. HE SAYS VERY FEW THINGS AND IN ALMOST EVERY CONVERSATION HE LIES
Honestly, this is the best scene that shows Henry's madness.
Interestingly, in the first class Richard attended, Julian asks about the one desire we all have. And Camilla says it's the desire to live. And Bunny adds:
"To live forever"
After all, he is the one who will be killed. And because of this, he will always live in the memory of others. Always young and never old
I kinda hope The Secret History never gets a movie adaptation because being forced to read the book is a test you have to pass to get into this fandom.
me, in any given conversation, redirecting the subject to greek mythology:
💮Never have I tried to rewatch my past to narrate myself. I know it's a mess, it's random, but I can feel it something beautiful. Everything fall in place just like a story. Sometimes I welcome the circumstances which fall in place. I watch, suffer, break, but never intend to mess with the sequence. The mishappenings seems beautiful in a chaotic way, and perfectly put. I think, 'Won't be a nice storyline to narrate?'💮
|Picture Credit : Pinterest|
💮Be careful what you perceive or learn from your past. You can't turn something into your source of pain and a jealousy of not being enough from where you were suppose create your strong fundamentals and nurture yourself. Be careful as well, whom you reveal it to. Your past isn't worthy of to be put out amidst every little argument. Putting up your past, this could be one of the easiest ways to break someone. Don't push yourself into that pathetic version of you.💮
▪|Picture credit - Pinterest|
💮"You are killing me, and you are keeping me from dying. That's love"💮
- | Mahmoud Darwish |
♠ You don't deserve something for what you'll pity yourself later on.
And suddenly, the splashes of rain smelled like a strange sensation of being everything alright, which I barely trust. The muddy petrichor gave me a deja vu of a life I've lost somewhere here. Perhaps the showerdrops will taste sweet, like childhood, or it may hurt as healing.
| PC Credit : Pintetest |
گھر تھی وہ ہمارا، انسان سے گھر تو دور جا سکتا ہے، لیکن انسان
کے دل سے نہیں
घर थी वो हमारा, इंसान से घर तो दूर जा सकता है, लेकिन इंसान के दिल से नहीं ।
~ Necromancer
Image taken from Pinterest
“I was a hollow canvas, she was a colourful contagion, spreading a portrait of love, onto this vacant soul of mine.”
“Red pigments are first to evanescence”
The whole video feels like a poetry 🍀
خسرو دریا پریم کا،الٹی وا کی دھار
جو اترا سو ڈوب گیا ،جو ڈوبا سو پار
- امیر خشرو
खुशरो दरिया प्रेम का, उल्टी वा की धार
जो उतरा सो डूब गया, जो डूबा सो पार
- अमिर खुशरो
میرے کمرے کو سجانے کی تمنا ہے تمہیں
میرے کمرے میں کتابوں کے سوا کچھ بھی نہیں
- جون ایلیا
मेरे कमरे को सजाने की तमन्ना है तुम्हारी,
मेरे कमरे में किताबों के सिवा कुछ भी नहीं ।
- जौन एलिया
Image taken from pinterest
And one day, she also decided to leave.. I did not ask for an explanation this time, I was tired of asking people to stay. I have made peace with people going away.. holding on hurts, letting go hurts.
"Maybe one day", I am no longer waiting for that one day.. once gone, people never return, me having expectations puts a hole, only in my heart.
"People never return" or maybe I have fallen for wrong people all along?
Image taken from pinterest
~ Necromancer
I have read books after books, seen series after series, listened songs after songs. nothing, just nothing moves me anymore.
I have stopped caring about myself, my beard is unkempt, hell I don't even know how long it has grown. I don't even remember when was last time I looked at myself in mirror. I just do not want to look into my eyes anymore, what will I answer to my reflection? Who am I? What have I become? the existential dread I have is far more greater than my willingness for self care.
How long is my hair? when was the last time I had a haircut? Why do I feel no love? for myself, for others? I can't help but think about Gregor Samsa, how he must have felt when he turned into a bug, to not able to associate with your body, not able to recognize yourself, not able to care about yourself. How did he feel when none of his family members cared about him, the ones he expected some amount of sympathy were the ones who were the very first to abandoned him. How did it felt to be different? in the most unwanted way.
Maybe I know, No, I am not a bug, or some character from Kafka's dreadful fantasies but I have known all those feelings at some point of my life, those situation which make you stop and think, am I real or some figment of Kafka's stories?
Have you ever felt a moment where all eyes were on you and you felt like you were the oddest one of all humans which exist on this earth? If yes, you definitely know how it feels to be in my situation, this constant paranoia of my life which keeps on asking me to put a facade on my face is the reason I am always on the edge looking for a way to jump out of my skin and crawl underneath a chair just like Gregor.
I would be normal one day, I will look into my eyes someday. Hope it is not like Gregor.
(Image taken from Pinterest)
˜ Necromancer
I once dreamed I was a butterfly, and now I no longer know whether I am person, who dreamed I was a butterfly, or whether I am butterfly dreaming that I am a person.
~ Chuang-tzu
I am afraid of approaching someone now,
it was easier for me back when I was in school because we all basically had same lives, same cities, houses close by, smaller, similar circle of friends. even in college it was easier to catch up with whatever happened back in someone’s school days, we all shared similar school time tales, traumas, break up stories.
Approaching someone in adulthood is just like collision of two worlds (though it is true for all relationships be it school, college, work or any other stream of life), it all seems so overwhelming. The sheer aspect that another person has a different life altogether since last some 20 something years, they will be having completely different friend groups, so many life events, so many trauma. I do agree that humans are so beautiful when they’ve stories to tell and it is the beauty of randomness of everyone’s life that makes them unique.
Along with that there is a constant anxiety that time is slowly slipping away from you, as the later 20s creep in on you, this anxiety slowly grows bigger and bigger taking shape of a big question mark on yourself.
was I never enough? Will I ever find love? Am I supposed to be like this forever? Do I even deserve someone’s love?
The cycle of self doubt never ends.
As kafka said,
There are times when I am convinced I am unfit for any human relationship.
(Image taken from pinterest)
~ Necromancer
Temporary
I have been meeting people since long, I have seen temporary people, I have been with few. They are sometimes the most amazing people you will ever meet.
I met a person, temporary or not, I didn't knew if they will be here with me forever or not, we met, we talked, we went out a few times, and it was all amazing, felt like life couldn't get any better. We were eyesore to everyone around us, I wrote in my diary for them
"I have been living life in this dark abyss, the black and white world, they have brought back the colours of life to me, it all feels beautiful"
They went away, I was drowned in colours, all the colours they gave me. all the red, green, blue.
It should have been end of it all.
their return brought back all the colours, it was all rainbows and butterflies, it was as if I was a little kid who has been handed the crayons for the first time, excited, bubbly and ready to paint the world in their colours.
but sometimes, temporary people should remain temporary, they are meant to be.
maybe the temporary people shouldn't be given too much information about your life, that's the reason they are not permanent, right? because they are non-judgemental as long as they don't know about you.
Once you start making a temporary person a permanent one in your life, that is the moment you are destined to ruin your own feelings and respect for that person. such kind of people are meant to know very little about you, just meet them, have non-judgemental fun with them and move on. holding onto them will ruin your own mental being.
the return of that person in my life, was a pleasant surprise, but all the colours slowly blended into each other, creating a thick, viscous shade of crimson red. it was blood, my blood, the blood of my feelings. the slow, viscous decline of my sanity blending into some bit my self-destructing nature, triggering it all. just like a juicer cutting down all the pieces of fruits into a gooey mess, slowly turning the fruit into a thick paste of nothingness, just pure insides of the fruit.
for all I know, I was husk of a person remaining, all of my insides have been chopped up into the pieces, the pieces of my being, the pieces of my existence, broken, broken, broken down, mixed, churned, gulped and eaten alive.
the fruits which stay put tend to rot faster, they get replaced with new fruit. young and fresh. the one fear I hold came true to me, again.
I wrote for them again in my diary:
"all the colours which came back, were nothing but shades of red"
(Image taken from Pinterest)
~ Necromancer
photo and song of the week
from the inside of a theatre