Hey Did You Know I Keep A Google Drive Folder With Linguistics And Language Books  that I Try To Update

Give me body horror in magic.

Give me pyromancy that burns the skin off your hand until your bones are showing. Give me arcane that cooks you inside-out from manaburn. Give me cryomancy that cracks your skin and chips it away. Give me necromancy that causes your teeth to turn necrotic and your eyes to glass over white.

I don’t want cute magic. I want magic to be a raw and dangerous force. I want those who harness it to feel the full effects of what a great and terrible thing it is. I want mages who wear the effects of their magic on their skin and in their bones.

That’s the good stuff.

the biggest lesson im learning is that nothing is as extreme or as permanent as our emotions convince us they are. nothing is certain and things are always fluctuating and there are always exceptions and there are always mistakes. there is always pain and there is always love. everything is a delicate touch away from changing

a hard pill to swallow: if an audience can pick up on where the story is going, it’s a good story.

(source)

Now is the easiest time of year to start a new garden bed. All you have to do is lay down cardboard:

Top it with still some nitrogen rich compostable matter, in this case grass clippings:

Some carbon-rich matter, in this case old wood chips:

And keep layering until it's pretty thick:

And then walk away and ignore it until spring. All winter long, it'll be decomposing, while killing the grass and weeds underneath. By spring time, the soil underneath will be nice & loose and fertile, and you'll be able to plant straight into it.

(If you want to meet organic standards, then make sure any cardboard or paper is non-glossy and black & white. This was for someone else's flower bed, so the red ink isn't going to be an issue)

a fantasy

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i have never met an unpsychotic person who knows what it actually means to “not encourage the delusion” …not a single one

Dark Academia for Brown People

 Most people, when they think of dark academia is books (that’s the whole point) and ancient languages such as Latin or Ancient Greek. I’m here to tell you that you all are SLEEPING on brown culture. Love that is conveyed in the languages of Persian and Urdu (my native language) crosses borders. Sure, Shakespeare and Sappho wrote great pieces of literature but the stories and poems of Rumi, Manto, Hafez and Iqbal have a special place in my heart. 

Some of my favourites are:- (all are translated)

Sit at my grave with wine and a minstrel in a trance, so your smell will raise me from the dead.

HAFEZ

My lover’s sadness lit a fire in my heart that burned my chest, there was a fire in his house that burned the nest.

HAFEZ

O the day turned night, what a shame, a gazelle of kindness a lion became, my partner and lover grew tired of my words and prayers too.

RUMI

These are my personal favourites. I can always make a longer post if you all want.

Female poets deserve a whole other post.

As someone who goes to an English-Medium school, we are always taught to converse in English, see the language as a part of yourself but deny a place to Urdu. As I grow older, I have come to appreciate my identity and so should all my fellow brown people. Take pride in your mother tongue.