greywarrenss-blog

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concept playlists;

you’re lying on mossy forest floors, slowly transforming into a nymph, your fingers are turning into flower vines, your limbs are bleeding honey & growing thick skins of sepia bark, wings sprout in between your shoulder blades. your breath sounds like the wind. fireflies litter the air above you

you’re hold up in an abandoned church, outside there’s a raging storm & a horde of zombies roaming around, pressing up against the entrance doors. you & a small band of survivors are staying inside for the night in hopes to ride the bad weather out. you take first watch & listen to these tunes on an old ipod while everyone else tries to get some rest & the undead crawl outside, awaiting the taste of human flesh.

you’re in your boyfriend’s pickup. he’s asleep in the passenger seat, you’re driving without a destination in mind & you have the window down as you let the cool night air whip against your face in a state of pleasant delirium you’re on a rooftop somewhere, there’s 5 am air on your skin, streetlights glint like coins at the bottom of wishing wells from where you sit. you’re feeling peaceful for the first time all week

you’re lying in the middle of a crop circle forty miles from your grandma’s old house waiting for aliens to come and abduct you

it’s four pm in the afternoon and you’ve got your head in the lap of the only boy you’ve ever loved & you’re reading jane eyre & he’s sipping on tea & it’s the kind of weather where it’s just warm enough for you to pretend it’s summer & it’s drizzling & you’re listening to the rain beat softly against the windowpanes you’re curled up in bed as it pours outside, there’s a citywide blackout and the last candle you had left has finally blown out, but you feel strangely at peace within the warm, all-consuming dark

you’re making out in the bathroom of a house party with someone that makes you feel like you’ve swallowed the sun you’re standing amidst a city you burned to the ground. the apocalypse has come & gone. all that’s left is ashes & mortar & sad bones but you’re feeling empowered. a slow smile creeps up your lips as you realize how you’ve always wanted to watch the world burn you wander into wonderland and now you’re suddenly being crowned fairie queen, apparently there’s a prophecy waiting to be fulfilled  it’s mid morning but it’s dark outside from the rain. you thought the tapping on the window was from the rain but it’s actually a crow that flickers out of sight when you look directly at it you’re sipping on cherry cola by the pool on a lazy sunday & you’re feeling younger than you’ve ever been you’re summoning old ghosts in an abandoned parking lot on a smoggy thursday night

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Books Read in 2017: The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas

—people like us in situations like this become hashtags, but they rarely get justice. I think we all wait for that one time though, that one time when it ends right. Maybe this can be it.

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BOOKS READ IN 2017: THE HATE U GIVE by Angie Thomas

I’ve seen it happen over and over again: a black person gets killed just for being black, and all hell breaks loose. I’ve tweeted RIP hashtags, reblogged pictures on Tumblr, and signed every petition out there. I always said that if I saw it happen to somebody, I would have the loudest voice, making sure the world knew what went down. Now I am that person, and I’m too afraid to speak.

[greywarrenss-blog]

the raven king, chapter 16

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books you should read: six of crows by @lbardugo

“You love trickery.“ “I love puzzles. Trickery is just my native tongue.” 

insp

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I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I’m awake, you know?

Ernest Hemingway (via help-n-quotes)

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nina, holding up her leg: feel my leg, i shaved

jesper, gently stroking: holy shit

kaz: guys we're being shot at this isn't the time

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Hello, October!

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· YA LIT MEME: ten series or books (7/10) - six of crows by leigh bardugo

“no mourners. no funerals. among them, it passed for ‘good luck’”  

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halsey’s badlands + favorite songs + favorite lyrics 

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JILYTOBER: “He could still see his parents beaming up at him from the tattered old photograph, unaware that their lives, like so many of those around them, were drawing to a close”

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literature posters, featuring 1984

“It’s a beautiful thing, the Destruction of words.”

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hoodies are one of the most powerful and underappreciated articles of clothing. cold? put on a hoodie. raining? put on a hoodie. no bra? put on a hoodie. nothing to wear? hoodie. cripplingly low self esteem? you already know. so versatile! so multifaceted!

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concept playlists part ii

it’s the year 2077 & you’re at a nightclub in tokyo with your best friend, you’re both on the run from a group of rebels but you feel safe in this little neon corner of nowhere so when a robot waiter offers you a strawberry daiquiri you accept it you’re a tourist on mars & you’re trying to contact home but the signal is really crappy so you just end up buying yourself an icecream sundae & waiting in this strange alien queue to buy an interstellar sim card you’re in a small virginian town that was wiped off the map several years ago housesitting for a mysterious neighbor when you find a secret passageway in their library, you have no idea where it leads but you’re curious to take a look  you’re in victorian england & you’re walking down a path adorned with the warm aureate glow of gaslights & it’s snowing softly & you have your hands buried deep in your coat pockets while somewhere in the distance, someone announces that the queen is dead you meet god at a gas station at 3.03 am & he asks you if you want to go for a motorcycle ride with him & when you say yes he warns you that he’s about to introduce you to things you can never unknow 

you’re in love with a ghost who shows up in all your household mirrors & keeps turning off the kitchen light but one night you realize that you’re the one that’s been doing all the haunting  it’s a rehab centre for celestial beings, where angels with dying halos flitter past & talk to you of stars, you love working this job, learning about the woes of a dozen flighty beings, & they endow you with their strength & light in return you’re stuck in a time loop inside of a 80′s horror flick and your entire world feels like it’s glitching around you nothing is real except for your strange lover with eyes like moonlight calling you to come back to bed  you’re at an island at midnight all by yourself, the night sky is so clear the sea reflects the star-matted sky, a salty breeze lifts your hair, you breathe in deep & dream of someone beautiful coming to your rescue

xtras: hotmess / midyouth crisis / mud puppy / lucid dreaming

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Andrew dug a finger in Neil’s cheek and forcibly turned his head away. Don’t look at me like that. I am not your answer, and you sure as fuck aren’t mine.

give it a listen here 

i. say it echos ii. out of my league (peking duk remix) fitz and the tantrums iii. a world alone lorde iv. remains (bastille vs rag ‘n’ bone vs skunk anansie) bastille v. sex on fire kings of leon vi. i’m a ruin marina and the diamonds vii. r u mine? arctic monkeys viii. what you know two door cinema club ix. like you lots lany x. high sivik xi. apcolyapse cigarettes after sex xii. slow burn cry wolf xiii. idfc blackbear  xiv. fools troye sivan xv. fallingforyou the 1975 xvi. dangerous (live sessions) glades xvii. drive (stripped) glades

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sure twilight is terrible but what wlw didn’t have a crush on alice? she is responsible for so many sapphic awakenings. edward is trash but alice is forever. 

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I feel like when you’re writing, organizing chapters and dialogue is easy

but jfc, the amount of time it takes to constantly keep people moving and make sure they’re in the right spaces and trying to come up with wording for it is always such a shock. 

Like, fuck, I made you pick up a coffee cup, you need to put it down at some point. also I can’t remember what I dressed you in, can you push up your sleeves? I don’t remember if you even have your shirt on.

and YOU. YOU OVER THERE, you got out of your chair earlier, but did you come back yet? Are you coming back? Where did you even go and why’d you get up? Fuck, I can’t make you sit down again already, you just stood up, go…over there. go get more coffee. Did you bring your mug with you? fine. bring the pot to the table and–wait, wasn’t the coffee pot already over here? shit, hold on, I need to go back and re-read and re-write