Literati Love

May182013

(via literatureismyutopia)

10PM

By Sarah_Shaw

(via thegirlandherbooks)

10PM

(Source: charlie-thats-me, via literatureismyutopia)

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jaybekays:

Gilmore Girls: Rory/Dean moments
└ 1.09 - Rory’s Dance

I keep reading where those who ship Dean and Rory claim that at first Dean was portrayed as a reader. It’s true that he was attracted to Rory’s concentration while reading, that he, reluctantly, read the books she recommended, and that he recommended an author to her once. But, he didn’t understand the things she asked him to read, he “watched her browse” in bookstores, found it strange that she would bring a book to a dance, and sat bored (even if he claimed not to be) at book sales. What I found notable in this scene (above), is that Rory didn’t ask Dean if he’d read The Outsiders. She asked if he’d watched it. From that, it seems to me that she assumed he wouldn’t have read it, even though it was commonly on schools’ required reading lists.

Don’t get me wrong. I noticed that the writers dumbed Dean down to make Jess More attractive as a match for ultra-literate Rory, but Dean never was portrayed in either Rory or Jess’ league in terms of the love of literature.

(via gilmoregirlsforever)

ramblings and observations

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“From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.” Edgar Allan Poe, The Collected Poetry of Edgar Allan Poe (via itsfromabook)

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“

Each time I’m asked to tell about myself, I find myself starting the same way: “My name is Kelsey and I’m nineteen..”
but what I’d really like to say is:
“My name means island of the ships but once
I found a translation that said I’m a burning shipwreck-
not a burning ship but a ship that has caught fire
after the wreckage and well, I’d say that’s more fitting.”

I’ve learned that people don’t have time for about me’s.
They need two things: a name and an indication you’re someone special.

The doctors, they want facts not details.
“I broke my leg when I was three, it’s a funny story actually-“
The right or the left?
Conversation over.

The teachers, they want interests, hobbies.
You’re sad, yes, but what do you like to do?

The adults are a spew of questions.
What school do you go to? What classes are you taking?
What do you plan on becoming? Got a boyfriend?
No, stop.

People my own age are the worst.
“I’m planning on an English degree with a concentration in creative writing.”
Yeah, aren’t we all. So how many times have you, you know,
done it?

I’m pulled apart, my interests travelling highway 2
my goals at a stop light at traffic hour,
my medical history on a billboard for the world to see.
But what about me?

Where’s the chance to say,
“I hang on to fistfuls of poetry like loose change in my pockets,
and I keep waiting for the day that the world turns upside down
so I can swim with the stars.
I’m not afraid of darkness, it’s a loneliness I can empathize with it.
It’s the blackholes like cigarette burns inside of me that get troublesome.
I walk through graveyards and read the dashes between years,
each a story I’ll never know. Sometimes I create my own.”

No wonder none of us know who we are anymore.

”

Kelsey Danielle, “I Was Told to Write an About Me and This is What Happened” (via commovente)

(via kindofthepoint)

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