My Favorite Part Of Hamlet Is When They See The Ghost For The First Time And Theyre Like Horatio Should

my favorite part of hamlet is when they see the ghost for the first time and they’re like “horatio should go talk to it because he went to college so he’s probably the best qualified out of all of us” because that’s exactly how me and my friends would make that decision as well

Have you ever wondered whether a snowflake gets quickly old before it dies? How many plants grew thanks to snowflakes? How many snowflakes are there swimming in the ocean? And is there therefore after all a snowflake which someone might have seen twice?

It is the peace that happiness resides in

This is one of those heavily rare moments where I actually felt in peace, on my walk in the beginning of December

❄️ video is my own, please, don't use without credit

The old German tale says:

In the very beginning of all times, Snow longed for a colour to be whole. In its adoration of all the flowers' coulours, it aspired one of them would share their own colour with the Snow. However, the flowers too proud, finding the Snow cold and harsh, did not like it to be the same colour as themself. After all the failed search, the disappointed Snow was at last seen by a little humble flower. Her hope and sympathy gifted the Snow its significant white colour and in return the Snow swore a place and no harm of its sharp crystals to the kind maiden. Ever since, the Snow and the Snowdrop in their grace, together bring a new beginning.

❄️ pictures are my own, please, don't use without credit

Will you reach for my heart when my mind screams with fear? Will you reach for my heart when my eyes are bloodshot with tears? Will you reach for my heart when all the unsettling thoughts are spilling out of me? Will you reach for my heart when my exhaustion is spitting rage and frustration your way? Will you reach for my heart when you don't understand anything of what I'm trying to explain? Will you reach for my heart when my demons drag me in a dance? Will you reach for my heart when it's just a pile of sharp, shattered shards? Will you reach for my heart when I'm roaming on the edge of a knife again and again? Will you reach for my heart time and time again?

Is your love brave enough?

Emily Yvonne, Will You Reach For My Heart?

I don't know what's going on. I don't know where I am. I cannot name it. I don't know it. Bloom or decay? Renaissance or decadence? Am I living through my death or have I been dying through my life?

Emily Yvonne, fragments of my mind

Mary Magdalene as a hermit (Details), 1833 - Francesco Hayez