angstyfeel

[angstyfeel]

"What's your dream job?" One day you ask

But don't you know it is such a daunting task?

To tell you that I don't dream of labour

I have only one dream and that is to be a dreamer.

A small cottage covered in vines, deep inside a forest by a lake,

Cakes and cookies in the oven while some more bread I bake,

A field of sunflower and daisies over which fairies sprinkle their pixie dust

My garden flourishing with gnomes, flora fauna and people I trust.

I'd sit by the pond, feeding the swans while reading a book on dark cloudy days

In summer, we'd eat ice cream and make  flower crowns, basking in the sun's warm rays.

I'd cover you with petals of cherry blossoms on a bright day of spring,

We'd wait for autumn together and the greatest festival it'd bring.

Huddling inside a blanket, we'd share hot chocolate and s'mores,

On cold winter nights, you'd tell me fairy tales and old folklores.

I'd hold the small ladder when you'd place the sparkly star on the top of our Christmas tree.

I don't have a dream job, all I want in my life, is to be free.

9-6 everyday, existing on autopilot, waiting for a day to end

Is money everything on which one's life should depend?

Chasing weekends and numbers, waiting for holidays just to live

Isn't what my dream job is, at the end of the day happiness is what I want to achieve.

-celestial

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𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.

excerpts from a book I’ll never write

[angstyfeel]

— Virginia Woolf

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finding fanfiction i haven’t read yet

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why do grooms get one boring black jacket and brides get the most jawdropping gowns ever like when i get married i want pearls and lace and a train is that too much to ask??

[angstyfeel]

So he watches Harry scramble around looking for answers, his face slack and perfect and the very portrait of a Shakespeare tragedy. It’s like watching the final scene of Hamlet, all within his features. A mass murder, a total destruction, a bloodbath.

Except Louis thinks Harry is probably Ophelia and he’s probably already drowned.

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u are here processing march 2020 and i am still here pondering abt a certain facebook post that was made on march 25th 2015. we are not the same.

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my love language is the same as a crow. if you’re nice to me i’ll bring you useless little trinkets from my travels that made me think of you

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Does it ever drive you crazy, just how fast the night changes

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The sudden emptiness of his hands makes him a little itchy though, so he opts for sliding out the spare cigarette from behind his ear—the one that that kindly stranger lent him, back at the pub. With quick fingers he finds his lighter, flicks the flame, and swallows up the smoke that soon follows, burning relief coating his lungs.

Harry watches him, all the while, alight with unseen sparks of electricity.

“Hey,” he rasps quietly after a moment, suddenly reaching out for the cigarette. “Give it here?”

“What? Ah, no,” Louis replies firmly, moving out of reach. “No, no, Sasspup. No fuckin’ way.”

At that, Harry’s brow furrows, licked icy blue in the night. “Why not?” he pouts, slow and put-out.

Louis just smiles around the cigarette. “Because.” He exhales.

“Because it’s addicting and it’s a shitty habit and it kills you.”

“Okay, but you’re doing it,” Harry points out, still staring at Louis’ lips and the smoke that spills from between them.

“Well,” Louis smirks with a shrug, flicking off an ember onto the cracked pavement underfoot, “I don’t mind dying.”

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“I should like to be the sun,” Louis replies instead, before finally ripping his gaze away from Harry and looking up as well. “And you can be the moon.”

“But then we’d never see each other,” Harry says, hurt, and Louis looks over to him. He’s staring at Louis with a kitten-like disappointment, a sweet pout on his lips.

Fuck.

“Not so, young one. The moon shines because of the sun, you know. Because the sun’s always there. Just like me,” Louis says happily. “And don’t even get me started on those eclipse.”

[angstyfeel]

harry went from “if i could fly, i’ll be coming right back home to you” to “i’ll be gone too long from you… two weeks and i’ll be home” but that’s not all! that is Not all. iicf is such a… desperate song. it is so fucking vulnerable and raw. written at the age of 21, he said “for your eyes only, i’ll show you my heart” and “right now i’m completely defenseless” bc he was. he bared his heart and soul for one specific person and said “i hope that you don’t run from me” bc his feelings were so overwhelming even for him. and then canyon moon at age 25…. god. four years later and he’s eager to return home. the song is so giddy at the thought of going home to his person, there’s no hesitation, there’s no if. he knows he’s going home. he’s like AAAAAHHHHH!!!!!! two weeks and i’ll be home!!!!!!!! i’m going oh i’m going home!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 😊🥰😍what the fuck why am i crying 

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Head empty no thoughts

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a collection of things harry and louis have done that make me want to Look Away