30th november 2012, canterbury

(from mmorrow) i’m happiest when most awayi can bear my soul from its home of clayon a windy night when the moon is brightand the eye can wonder through worlds of light— when i am not and none beside—nor earth nor sea nor cloudless sky—but only spirit wandering widethrough infinite immensity. emily brontë

Source image: sara’s wonderful tumblr. a fter fighting with my curtains, going and coming to different conferences and meetings for postgraduates (on ‘how you’ll have no social life at all during your studies’, gloups!), meeting other students (including my flatmates), it is all settled: i’m definitely back to england. and yet. as i had p

My true-love hath my heart, and i have his, by just exchange one for the other given: i hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss; there never was a bargain better driven. his heart in me keeps me and him in one, my heart in him his thoughts and senses guides; he loves my heart for once it was his own; i cherish his because in me it bides. his heart h

Where are the words ?

C'est tellement ça. en fait.

It’s been a while since i saw this film, and i do apologise for the poor ‘review’ i shall make of it (can we even call that a review? please reader, don’t take these writings too seriously, they are the result of a daydreamer’s reflections). to give you the context, it was the week i started my course and i thought going to the cinema was

I am currently reading: evelina, by frances burney hoping to: be able to finish my pierrot jacket before may 25th. looking for: a job. listening to: regõ rejtem, by the moon and the nightspirit. in the mood of: the 1780s.

Dear reader, during my second university year, i used to visit this place as often as i could. can you guess where i was ? is it a sense of melancholy , or a burst of excitement at the thought of the graduation that made me post this?

(picture from i capture the period pieces) as we entered the shop, i observed a young man, in deep morning, leaning against the wall, with his arms folded, and his eyes fixed on the ground, apparently in profound and melancholy meditation: but the moment he perceived us, he started, and, making a passing bow, very abruptly retired. as i found he wa