Journals, articles, books & texts, on folklore, mythology, occult, and related -to- general anthropology, history, archaeology.
Some good and/or interesting (or hokey) ‘examples’ included for most resources.
tryin to organize & share stuff that was floating around onenote.
You don’t believe me when I tell you that I like the noises you make when you sleep
And I don’t believe you when you tell me that my voice is your favorite sound,
Not when you can sing like that.
One of your ex’s name tastes like stale coffee
And the other one burns as if I’ve swallowed a scalding pot.
You don’t understand why I don’t discuss my first love with you
But how am I supposed to tell the sun that I once fell for the moon?
If I could, I’d pay rent for the spaces between your fingers,
So if anyone else tried to intertwine their hand with yours,
They would be trespassing.
I’m very good at useless metaphors
And very bad at telling people how I feel
But on our worst nights, you’re snow in the month of March
and even though I’m sick of winter,
I will never stop appreciating the beauty of a blizzard.
Even if you come home late and I’m already asleep, just whisper in my ear one little thought you had today. Because I love the way you look at the world. And I’m so happy I get to be next to you and look at the world through your eyes.
Somebody loves you if they don’t mind the quiet. They don’t mind running errands with you or cleaning your apartment while blasting some annoying music. There’s no pressure, no need to fill the silences. You know how with some of your friends there needs to be some sort of activity for you to hang out? You don’t feel comfortable just shooting the shit and watching bad reality TV with them. You need something that will keep the both of you busy to ensure there won’t be a void. That’s not love. That’s “Hey babe! I like you okay. Do you wanna grab lunch? I think we have enough to talk about to fill two hours!” It’s a damn dream when you find someone you can do nothing with. Whether you’re skydiving together or sitting at home and doing different things, it’s always comfortable. That is fucking love.
You can’t give up when you have nothing left to give.
What if I’ve made a terrible mistake?