The Writer Aesthetic

Reblog if no matter if you have 50,000 or 50 followers, you appreciate every single one. Reblog if you appreciate the messages you get, whether it's 100 or 1. Reblog if a little smile comes across your face everytime you see a new follower or message. Reblog if even though most of us aren't tumblr famous, we appreciate the little things.

me every single day of my life

me when I see the psychiatrist

subliming.jpg

Rest in peace Cruzeiro Seixas (1920-2020)

History doesn’t remember everything, history forgets too. Names lost in the sands, how many things buried in the bottom of the hourglass?

Seeing unhealthy patterns in your family and deciding that those pattens end with you and will not be passed down to future generations is an extremely brave and powerful decision.

Forgive yourself for repeating what was taught to you as a child, then put the conscious effort into deprogram these patterns.

The desert is coming to England

The desert is coming to England. The daisies are pushing up dust. The henges are looming through ashes. Our sunsets are ochre and rust. And plaster Elizabeth peers from the sand, And plaster Victoria’s one outstretched hand Is silently crumbling back into the land Where the desert is coming to England.

We don’t know how long it was coming, The route that it wove through the wars. Our safety for years has been sealing Our ears and our minds and our doors. We thought we’d stay safe from the sorrows of what The wider world whispered by keeping them shut But the borders are closed and the cables are cut And the desert’s still coming to England

So sing of Britannia’s twilight, A lullaby to it’s last gleaming: Under the shadows, the satellite-fires To usher the end of her dreaming. We thought it would come with the beat of a drum, With the fire of our bows burning bright like the sun, But silently, slowly and softly it’s come: The desert is coming to England.

Writing tips I know but never use #2

Art is hard, writing especially. You shouldn’t wait for inspiration to hit you, you should sharpen your blades, ready the guns, and hunt the damn thing down. Pin it to the page, and hold it there until it stops struggling. Go outside looking for it, talk to someone random on the bus about their coat, call a friend and ask them what the weirdest experience of their life involving the colour blue is. Hunt inspiration, do not let it hunt you.

If all roads lead to Rome, how do you actually get out of Rome ?