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Romanticism - Blog Posts
“Romantic Gothic deals with the tormented condition of a creature suspended between the extremes of faith and skepticism, beatitude and horror, being and nothingness, love and hate - and anguished by an indefinable guilt for some crime it cannot remember having committed.”
— – G. R. Thompson: from “Romanticism and the Gothic Tradition”
There is a face beneath this mask, but it isn't me. I'm no more that face than I am the muscles beneath it, or the bones beneath that.
— Steve Moore, V for Vendetta
One such soul is sometimes worth a whole constellation.
- Fyodor Dostoevsky
I long for the days of the wheel when I can see you again.
When the veil of unearthly delights are in sight.
I adore you my sweet, but I wish you could see it.
You watch through the mist of existence unable to touch mortality,
As my imagination of you makes me question morality.
I'll see you again my dear, it just may be sooner than you want.
Title: Maiden of The Mist
Poem I wrote about eating fundip like two years ago
i romanticise things that will kill me. it's cultural.
Oh to be a heroine in a Jane Austen novel
Contemporary art.
muse
My muse, my light, my art knows your shades as if it were its own
I will immortalize you in my world, through and through.
With my brushstrokes as sharp as your words, with my colors as bright as your hearts core.
If you ruin me, i will let you.
you wear damaged scars on the tip of your fingertips,
My eyes only regard them for how they fabricate you glow,
Your breath a phantom of the winds soft kiss,
As you break my heart, I will beg you to do it slow.
My lovely muse with the deepest water under the shore,
I will drown, deeper and deeper with a smile till all ends,
As the life falls out of my being onto your ocean floor,
My love knew no limits, i loved as soft as cotton tends.
My ever young light, you live forever in my art
I watch gladly, as you tear me apart.
Doesn't a word look weird when we stare at it long enough? Doesn't the alphabet look slightly meaningless when we write it over and over again? Here's one: CLING C-LING, C-L-ING, C-L-I-NG, C-L-I-N-G. Does this make sense? It doesn't sound like a word the more you say it. It doesn't look like a word the more you write it. The curves and strokes, dots and dash!
Isn't it how the name of the people you love changes? At some point, it stops being a name, a word that belongs to them. It becomes a feeling that belongs to you. It stops sounding like a word or a random string of letters. It becomes a string of feelings you cling to when life falls apart. Their name on your phone screen stops looking like a word. Every notification and phone call conjures an image of them looking at you and smiling before you can even look at it twice. That particular string of curves and strokes, dots and dash Once belonged to them and is now beloved by you Which you randomly write in the air because it gives you comfort.
Sometimes we take names for granted without realizing the power it holds. When all it takes is that one word to appear on your screen to get you through another tiring day.
the morning mists (clyties of the mist) oil painting on canvas by british artist herbert james draper, 1912 ✨
Composed between late 1944 and early 1945, amid the end of the war, the Methamorphosen is one of the last Strauss oeuvres. Although much has been speculated about its meaning, it’s clear that this work is the testament of the horror, incredulity and grief with which Strauss saw Germany’s devastation. One event that shocked him profoundly was the destruction of the Münchner Opernhaus, the Munich Opera House, where he had developed great part of his career. “The world most holy shrine destroyed!” he stated. The title of the work allude to a transformation process, not one determined by the achievement of progress and triumph, but one that leads to darkness and desolation; one that Germany and its cultural history went down to throughout the war.
In secret we met -- In silence I grieve, That thy heart could forget, Thy spirit deceive. If I should meet thee After long years, How should I greet thee? -- With silence and tears.
Lord Byron, When We Two Parted
new acquisition

aah byron, the queen of all drama queens.
Sometimes you had planned so much about a life with a certain person in it, that even a picture or a memory of them today can make you feel completely empty from inside. Although you were happily living your life on your own till yesterday and its been years of not being in touch with them.
whoever implied that Mary and percy shelley didnt have a nice relationship needs to stop fucking smoking crack lmfao what-
Things are heating up in the romantic poets fandom
via Gridllr.com — the Like-master!
The woodland track by Hendrik Pieter Koekkoek
No no, hear me out, okay? You date me, you get love letters, we recreate cute Pinterest photos, I surprise you with annotated copies of your favourite books, we get matching lockets and put pictures of each other in them, we explore the forest, we go to museums and libraries together, I make you your favourite tea, I write you sappy love songs, and we read books together so we can talk about them when we're done reading them. What do you think? Good idea, yeah?
John Keats: Local bitch decides to daydream instead of getting a degree
John Keats:... I'm the local bitch
LOL.
I have every conversation of ours engrained in my mind, but I can't quite figure out where we went wrong.
Is it wrong for me to miss you when I never truly had you?
I hate that it had to be you, you in all your courteous guy glory
But if anyone could make me realise how unfit I am to love, I'm glad it was you
In a wretched way, the pain was an epiphany and it was time I stopped pretending I meant anything to you.
You say the distance was too much for you, did you mean the one between us or our hearts?
I longed to feel the warmth of love tugging at my heartstrings, but now I fear they're too taut too feel anything but strain.
When I gave you an out, I never did expect you to take it, never thought you'd want to. But I suppose I was never enough to make you stay, never enough to make you change your mind.
How do I move on?
How do i move on when all my soul yearns for is you yet it has never truly known you?
How do i rid myself of the remnants of your existence, remnants i hold close to the essence of my being yet am entirely repulsed by?
"anyone who ever loved could look at me and know that I love you'
oh the urge to say this to them
{Quotes:Dreaming -cream/We shall be well prepared Mary Oliver/Who had a heart- Dionne warwick/Richard siken/Richard siken/euripides/Richard siken/euripides /letters to Milena Franz Kafka //picture: Pinterest}
“I have dreamed about you everynight since the day you left.”
Fuck restaurants and arcades.
Take my hand and bring me here for our first date.
Wednesday, 28th July 2021
Love is more than the dream wistfully painted across torn pages in dripping ink and meadows of wildflowers, by writers and poets huddled by candlelight seeing love written in beloved faces. Seeing love in yearning clouds slowly chasing after the sun's fragile rays. Love is heartache and hurt and pain - a climbing river pushing back against everything you know. It inspires and challenges, it breathes life and ends it. It is everything we want and everything we do not dare to have. Love can bring just as much destruction to the harmony it creates. But it’s never about what love is or what it is not - it is how we shape its destiny within our own lives that counts. Love will always be with you, but will you let it stay? And sometimes we know that we just have to chase it away.
🤍Einssein🕊️
Im Schmerz, in der Trauer, Angst, Wut, Freude da zu sein, mit dem Herzen zu sehen und der Seele zu hören.
Verbunden und frei. Allein und zu zweit. Heilsam vereint.
Spirit Petals 🌸✨
A sakura in blossom
whispers pink and white,
soft, fine, and gentle
- Rising
Its roots stretch deep
into Mother Earth,
solid, strong, and sturdy
- Staying