#aseparatepeace

[girl-of-ink]

what is it about finny aseparatepeace that makes people so convinced that he's blond. he literally has a canon description but people are desperate to write him with blond hair and green eyes. people would rather write him as ginger than give him his actual brown hair and "blue-green eyes"

[totallytrucked]

a chill in the air.... leaves falling... knit sweaters appearing... you know what that means.... aseparatepeace season fast approaches

[colescorner]

Self care afternoon I'm underway! Got a book, coffee and some music, see you all in awhile #reading #books #bookstagram #booklr #readingtime #currentlyreading #classicbooks #aseparatepeace #johnknowles https://www.instagram.com/p/B9msaG_pzS_IomH9s-YJ5OWqQsaEaB6ZYsjuvk0/?igshid=8zughgt122tz

[linameka]

Happy banned books week! To celebrate, I'm going to post a picture of a favorite Banned Book every day this week! Day 3: A Separate Peace by John Knowles! (Banned for "sexual content") #bannedbooksweek #aseparatepeace https://www.instagram.com/p/B21eS4elksX/?igshid=nofcqby9b9id

[bookwhims]

*Book Review* This little classic snuck up on me. Sometimes I feel like there are classics that are too hyped up but I feel the opposite about #aseparatepeace. I feel like it’s entirely underrated. It’s subtle and there were many moments where I didn’t catch the profoundness of scenes until after I read them and reflected on them. In my opinion, A Separate Peace is a perfect coming of age story because it slowly and beautifully shows the main character’s innocence and the loss of that innocence, not only by one dramatic moment but several small meaningful moments. It surprises you and breaks you until the very last page. Highly recommend. 🤩🤩🤩🤩/5 What classic novels have you read that left a lasting impression on you? Did you read it in your youth or as an adult? https://www.instagram.com/p/B0uI94gAEUc/?igshid=jvk16d0q8ph9

[beckytext]

Whoops, my hand slipped. (Headline from The Onion.) #ASeparatePeace #YAClassicsBlogathon

[lissreads]

"Nothing endures, not a tree, not love, not even a death by violence." . I finally have time to read this and I might not do anything but read it for the rest of the day. #aseparatepeace #johnknowles #currentlyreading #quote #bookstagram

[words4food]

“a shattering peace is best designed moving many years among ordinary ends as big as itself - human nature is inevitable and moves page by page” .... ✍🏻💭(I recently learned that I own two copies of #aseparatepeace by #johnknowles ... so I’ve decided to destroy one of them with #erasurepoetry 🕺🏻woot woot) https://www.instagram.com/p/BocqEqGHoLi/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1gpyixhg4k8pm

[whimsicallytheoretical-blog]

I’m gonna start talking about the pieces of music that I’ve written, and sketch while talking and thinking about it. Maybe even while listening to it too! And then the sketch that I make could end up being the cover art for the piece. In the last week or so, I’ve been posting a few video recordings of myself playing various pieces that I’ve written over the last 13 years/latter half of my life. I’m proud to announce that I will be releasing an album this summer, about 17 tracks total (13 piano pieces + 4 piano/vocal/electronic instrumental tracks, with 3 overlaps). I realized that I feel confident in making that announcement and setting that goal, because I have been using Instagram for the purpose of accountability and to fuel my own vehement belief in myself and my ability to set goals and accomplish them, as well as taking pride and accepting compliments in my own skills and talents! 🤗🎶🎹❤️ My album’s title will be “The Path: Stories with Strangers”. And this picture will be the cover! 🤗🎶😎🎹😍🤪✌🏽😭😂 #Music #Composer #ThePath #StoriesWithStrangers #Falorii #Debut #DebutAlbum #AccomplishGoals #SetGoals #Goals #ActivelyWorkTowardYourGoals #Piano #SoloPiano #AmateurArtist #IDontNeedToBeProfessionalToHaveFunWithSomething #SingerSongwriter #IHateThatPhraseOMGItsNotAGenre #ButIThinkALotOfPeopleMightCategorizeMyMusicThatWay #SoIGottaEMBRACEIt #Soundtrack #VernalEquinox #March21st #September21st #UntitledNumber1 #UntitledNumberOne #TheLastTrain #FinnyInDMajorPhineasInBMinor #ASeparatePeace #ASeparatePiece #Lololol #Literature #LolLiterature #AMoralDecision #HuckleberryFinn #HuckFinn #LolMoreLiterature #WhoeverYouMayBe #Voice #HighSchoolCrush #UpOnTheBalcony #Cats #AllergicToCats #WhenTheDreamBeginsToEnd #Circles #ParadeIntoTheAsylum #ADifferentTypeOfHeartbreak #SecretSongTitlesInHashtags #IsThisCleverOrAnnoying #DoPeopleEvenReadThese #IsAnyoneStillReadingThis #Typos #LifeTypos #Summer2018 #Summer2018🌴☀️ #Music🎶❤️🎹 #CanYouTellImExcited #IRevealedMyNewComposerNameInTheHashtagsDidAnyoneNotice #HEHHEH

[iamnotthedog]

OLYMPIA: AUGUST 10-11, 2001

Having fourteen hours in my Oldsmobile to toss the idea of Olympia around in my mind—to build it up as a mythical and magical place, a dark place, the home of my childhood idol Kurt Cobain’s muse—a place that would take me in and envelope me in its mist, its pines, its rain-glazed streets—a place that would convince me to stop running forever, to settle down and lose myself in its cold, wet splendor—I was rather disheartened to find it as just another lost and dreary American city. I mean, Olympia is a beautiful place, certainly. But after the places I had been—the things I had seen—pulling off of Interstate 5 and driving down Martin Way made me feel like I was right back in one of those suffocating American cities I had decided that I would try my best to never go back to. And if it hadn’t been for Joe being somewhere in that city at that very moment that I was pulling in, I would have just driven straight on through and kept going without thinking twice about it.

I drove past a gas station, a hotel, a pizza parlor, a paint store, a real estate office, a tire factory. A Starbucks with a few strollers parked outside. A series of small, non-descript, one-story businesses, many of them selling some kind of insurance, a few being locked up by sad men in loose-fitting two-piece suits. Some houses, some pine trees, a bridge, a strip mall. Eventually, everything got older—the buildings looking more drab, the sidewalks and parking lots cracked and lined with crooked strips of black tar, houses with small unfinished wooden porches set back off the road next to driveways, between businesses with front doors that sat right up on the sidewalks. Teenagers in black hooded sweatshirts and baggy jeans. Then more space—the space beyond the road widened to make room for car dealerships, gas stations, older businesses with “Capital City” in the name, places that sold things like stoves and stovepipes. A couple of right turns, and I was in a residential neighborhood. More trees, more bushes, some tall fences. A man in a grey sweat suit, walking his dog. Almost every house with one story, and maybe an attic or bedroom window up under the peak of the roof. Garbage cans next to one-car garages. Mailboxes on the curb. And then, without even having to look for him, Joe.

Joe was walking up a short driveway behind some pine trees towards a one-story grey house, car keys jingling in one hand, a twelve-pack of Olympia Beer in the other. He was whistling and looking exactly the same as the last time I had seen him—so much for those changes I was imagining—and as I honked my horn and pulled up to that curb in that little neighborhood behind that rusted out Geo Metro with the Illinois plates, I wondered if I had ever even left Morrison—if I had ever done anything in the past few years, or if it was all just a dream.

Despite my rather rude interruption of his early-evening, post-work ritual, Joe didn’t skip a beat. He gave me a big hug and ushered me inside, and in less than an hour we were eating steak and potatoes and drinking beer and I was exhausted, but well on my way to another roaring drunk. Then a bottle of Jim Beam appeared, and not two hours after dinner, I was sleeping face-down on a couch not ten feet from where Joe reclined in a Lay-Z-Boy, reeking of bourbon, breathing loudly through his nose, and scratching his nuts in his sleep.

I woke up in the morning to the sound of a door slamming and a car starting—Joe’s older brother Ben’s girlfriend Julie leaving for work. I rolled over and pulled a couch cushion over my face to block the light that stabbed at my eyes. Then I rolled over again and squinted out into the hazy daylight at Joe, still sprawled out on the fully reclined Lay-Z-Boy, his left arm draped over his eyes.

Joe had been thoroughly impressed with the fact that I had driven from Yosemite to Yellowstone and all the way up to Olympia just to find him. He had been impressed that I had done it all in the Olds—the same car that we used to drive out through the countryside back in high school, ditching class to smoke weed and listen to mix tapes. And Joe had been even more impressed with the fact that I had no idea where I was headed next, and that I did not intend to actually stay in Olympia—a decision I had made immediately upon seeing the place. After that one short night of drunken conversation, though, I could tell that he didn’t want to leave Olympia with me, either, and I didn’t even have to ask him.

So this—whatever this was going to be—was going to be it.

After a quick breakfast of bacon and eggs and some small talk with Ben, who I hadn’t seen since I was a young teenager and he used to get stoned and threaten me with his Swiss Army knife just for kicks—Joe went into the bathroom to shower and get dressed to go to work at some restaurant or something—a job he worked whenever he had a day off from working construction. I stood in the narrow carpeted hallway outside the bathroom, staring at an old Grateful Dead poster on the wall and sipping coffee while I talked to him through the door.

“I’m going to drive over to Olympic National Park. I’ve always wanted to see it.”

“As long as you come back.”

“I will. I just want to check it out. Maybe find a place for us to camp for a couple days. You got a day off coming up?”

“I’ve got two this weekend.”

“What day is it today?”

“Wednesday. I’m off Friday and Saturday.”

I leaned against the wall and slid down to sit on the carpet. A street cleaner drove by outside, his brushes swishing on the wet pavement. Joe turned on the shower.

“Did you ever read that book I gave you?”

“Dharma Bums? I tried. Didn’t understand it. Too many weird words. I don’t know anything about Buddhism.”

“You don’t need to know the words. They make sense after a while. Bodhisattvas and bhikkus are just students of life, like you and me. They’ve just committed themselves to letting go. It’s all about freeing yourself from your attachments.”

“I like my attachments.”

“That’s why you’re so loyal. You know that there is no duality. There are no attachments and there are no ‘no attachments.’ Everything just is.”

“Whatever. See? I don’t get that.”

“I’ll give you another book I read a while back. Awakening the Buddha Within. It’s an introduction to everything.”

“I’d like to say I’ll read it, but I pro’ly won’t.” Joe fumbled with some plastic bottles. Trying to distinguish the shampoo from the conditioner or something. “I read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, though,” he continued. “You gave me that a long time ago. Remember that?”

“That’s a great book,” I said. I sipped from my coffee. “I think what drives Phaedrus nuts in that book is the same thing that’s going to drive us all nuts in the end.”

Joe laughed. “We’re all trying to define quality?”

“I think we all are. Yes.”

“Mrs. Frame always called you Phaedrus back in high school.”

“Phineas.”

“What?”

“She called me Phineas.”

“Who the fuck is Phineas?”1

 Mrs. Frame was our high school English teacher. She called me Phineas, referring to a character in John Knowles’ novel A Separate Peace who was a nonconformist, constantly refusing to follow rules and regulations, doing stupid shit like wearing his tie on his head, and organizing a group called the Summer Suicide Society. ↩︎

[howling-echo]

Bao Short Film | Incredibles 2 Short Movie

@aseparatepeace il tuo nuovo corto preferitooooo!!!! 

[beckytext]

Friendships are complicated and war is hell and all-boys schools are kinda homoerotic. http://bit.ly/2whnZ6v #YAClassicsBlogathon #ASeparatePeace

[howling-echo]

Non lo vuoi un sushi tramezzino?

Sferetta! No grazie ma sono sicura che @aseparatepeace ti dirà di sì! 😂