Dark Academia Literature - Blog Posts

reading austen with this scenery is something else 🤍🦋

Indeed, joy can be extracted even from the tiniest mortal and immortal creations. And indeed, sorrow can be inhaled within every single blink underneath the sky. The past transcends the boundaries of the present and devours every reason to leave this ephemeral juncture of bones and blood.

-Her "Schrödinger's Cat" , First Insight

When a match is struck, a fire being with a soul, which may one day be reborn in a human body is born only to die a few moments afterwards. In every drop of rain, in every breath of wind, in every lump of clay is a living soul."

- Vardhaman, Translation by A.L. Basham

They were sitting together silently and watching their shudders dissolving into sighs. Their oblivious stares weaving a music and tears making promises to make it up to sunrise.

na bc this

Shameless and callous I love you.

Out of indifference I love you.

Poems for a summer day:

Emily Dickinson

(my favourite poet)

A something In a summer's day

Summer shower

Further In summer than the birds

As sleigh bells seem In summer

It can't be "Summer"!

Summer for thee, grant I maybe

It will be Summer - eventually

I taste a liquor never brewed (the best poem ever)

The one who could repeat the summer day

What shall I do when the summer troubles

Ourselves were wed one summer - dear

So much summer

I know a place were summer strives

Would you like summer? Taste of ours.

There came a day at summer's full

Her final summer was it

Twice had summer her fair verdure

The trees like tassel - hit and swung by

John Keats

The Human Seasons

On the grasshopper and cricket

Shakespeare

Shall I compare thee to a Summer's Day

Over hill, over dale - from A Midsummer Night’s Dream

William Wordsworth

Book Fourth [Summer Vacation]

Daffodils (not about summer, but gives me summer vibes)

The Solitary Reaper (again, not about summer, but gives me summer vibes)

Langston Hughes

Summer Night (not about summer, but brilliant poem)

Pablo Neruda

100 Love Sonnets

Poem XVI

Poem LI

Poem XCII

Charles Baudelaire

L’invitation au voyage

Amalgamation of Poems

(these poems are grouped in amalgamation not because they are in anyway less relevant than the others above, the poems below have not been read by me or had been read long ago.)

Moonlight, Summer Moonlight by Emily Jane Brontë

June by John Updike

Love Song, 31st July by Richard Osmond

Apples by Laurie Lee

Warm Summer Sun by Mark Twain

A Boat Beneath a Sunny Sky by Lewis Carroll

Fireflies in the Garden by Robert Frost

Midsummer, Tobago by Derek Walcott

A Green Thought by Katharine Towers

Adlestrop by Edward Thomas

When we got to the beach by Hollie McNish

Summer Stars by Carl Sandburg

Before Summer Rain by Rainer Maria Rilke

Morningside Heights, July by William Matthews

Miracles by Walt Whitman

Bed in Summer by Robert Louis Stevenson

Summer night, riverside by Sara Teasdale

The Idea of Order at Key West by Wallace Stevens

In Summer by Paul Laurence Dunbar

For once, then, something by Robert Frost

Summer Holiday by Robinson Jeffers

A boy and his dad by Edgar Guest

Long Island Sound by Emma Lazarus

Bath by Amy Lowell

Summer Morn in New Hampshire by Claude McKay

In the Mountains on a Summer day by Li Bai (personal favourite)

Backyard by Carl Sandburg

Idyll by Siegfried Sassoon

If you get there Before I do by Dick Allen

Fishing on the Susquehanna in July by Billy Collins

Indian Summer by Dorothy Parker

Fragment 31 (Jealousy) by Sappho (brilliant poem)

Constantinople by Lady Mary Wortley Montagu

Green by Paul Verlaine

From the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyám, quatrain IX

To Natasha by Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin

[These poems have an aspect of summer and definitely, most of them have addressed deeper issues through the appearance of a beautiful imagery of summer. This has been created from my own reading experience, google websites and recommendations from friends and professors. If you want me to add anything more, leave an ask or comment. Enjoy these beautiful poems and no hate please.]

I'm currently filling an admission to a VERY prestigious religious - studies program, and I was requested to write about a piece of media which influenced me as a person.

Fools just gave me free rein to infodump on TSH

Stay yourself, stay curious

As a communist, leisure is something I find especially sacred. No matter what area a person finds fascinating, I believe that person should have the right to indulge in it (given it is harmless). The pure idea of a world in which an inspiring historian has to sit at a desk and click on buttons to survive sickens me, let alone the reality of it. As long as you can, especially if you are young enough -

Read that Wikipedia article.

Analyse those films.

Learn that instrument.

There is a reason all my post end with

Stay yourself, Stay curious.

I love you people going into "useless" fields I love you classics majors I love you cultural studies majors I love you comparative literature majors I love you film studies majors I love you near eastern religions majors I love you Greek, Latin, and Hebrew majors I love you ethnic studies I love you people going into any and all small field that isn't considered lucrative in our rotting capitalist society please never stop keeping the sacred flame of knowledge for the sake of knowledge and understanding humanity and not merely for the sake of money alive

I finished the secret story I can't stop thinking about how much they manipulated richard and how I as the reader was manipulated as well

unlike richard from the beginning I was finding them all a bunch of prentensious losers I didn't fall for the aesthetic and to me judy was the only nice person. When they talk about the fight between camila and her I was 100% sure camila and the others were in the wrong.

And in the first half even when they are including richard he is still an outsider and he can kind of feel something was a bit off. So I was enjoying reading them all at francis' and I was liking the characters more but I still find them suspicious, because Richard is showing us they are hiding something. (At the time I was theorizing they were planning to sacrifice richard in some ritual and I was thinking they would eventually change their minds and they decide to kill bunny lmao)

I think there were two turning points for richard that made him decided to be so involved. And those turning points have an effect on us readers as well. The first one was when Henry saved him and taked care of him. After that it seems like Richard starts to worship him. He already admired him before, but he started putting him on a pedestal

And the second is when he is on francis's house and Henry tells him about the murder. Henry was so smart, the way he keeps saying richard figured out and he knew he would do it. And then he's complaining that bunny always ask for money and he uses the example that richard would rather die than ask for help. It's like he and Francis are showing him that bunny sucks and how they view him differently and they respect him. Both Richard and Bunny didn't have money, but Richard had values. That's what it seems like they are saying without saying. Also them saying bunny doesn't like richard? At the time I believe but I have my doubts about that. Richard and Bunny actually seemed to spend a lot of time together, he visited Richard's room a lot, they went for walks together. They both also seemed to be the only ones who weren't completely isolated from the rest.

And this happens right after they ignored him for a week and he was alone and desperate. Suddenly they're showing they like him, respect him and trust him. Then in the other day all 4 take richard for a dinner, he's now one of them and bunny isn't.

And what is great is that since we're on richard's head we get manipulated as well. You feel upset when they ignore him and you like when they show they care.

And suddenly Henry is asking hundreds of favors to Richard and Richard is doing without questioning and I'm not questioning either because it feels almost right.

And it's only when things start to go unhinged I think especially after Bunny's burial that he starts to understand things. In Bunny's house he was still doing everything for Henry, stoling pills from him. Francis and Charles weren't putting any effort to help Henry, it was Richard and Camila.

But after the burial, Henry is different, distant. We start to realize little by little he does not care. More than doesn't care, it seems like hew views richard as a possible scaping goat. And I think this is what allows Richard to start questioning his orders and being less blind about him. Then he also finds out about Henry and Camila and he feels 'betrayed'. I think he felt left out, not only by camila but also by henry. In fact, I think Henry's attention was the main thing.

We start to realize he was never part of the group, they used him. With Henry was clear, with the twina it was after that talk with Francis that things starts to get clear. I always felt the twins were the most distant. Richard was always saying he liked them the most and they were nice to him. But it always gave me the impression it was very superficial. He didn't really knew them.

I think the only real relationship he ends up having in the group is francis, because eveyone was losing their minds and being weird and they were the ones that were "left". They were also losing, but they still felt more """normal""". So I think that kinds of ends up uniting them.

words by me. an excerpt from the opening chapter of my novel ©/

normalize reading a book without caring if the spine breaks, folded cover, misspelled annotations and just ruining the book completely as a form of art

Source: Pinterest

Source: Pinterest

Source: Pinterest

Source: Pinterest

One day you will ask me which is more important? My life or yours? I will say mine and you will walk away not knowing that you are my life.

― Khalil Gibran

گھر تھی وہ ہمارا، انسان سے گھر تو دور جا سکتا ہے، لیکن انسان

کے دل سے نہیں

घर थी वो हमारा, इंसान से घर तो दूर जा सकता है, लेकिन इंसान के दिल से नहीं ।

~ Necromancer

Image taken from Pinterest

“I was a hollow canvas, she was a colourful contagion, spreading a portrait of love, onto this vacant soul of mine.”

“Red pigments are first to evanescence”

The whole video feels like a poetry 🍀

خسرو دریا پریم کا،الٹی وا کی دھار

جو اترا سو ڈوب گیا ،جو ڈوبا سو پار

- امیر خشرو

खुशरो दरिया प्रेम का, उल्टी वा की धार

जो उतरा सो डूब गया, जो डूबा सो पार

- अमिर खुशरो

میرے کمرے کو سجانے کی تمنا ہے تمہیں

میرے کمرے میں کتابوں کے سوا کچھ بھی نہیں

- جون ایلیا

मेरे कमरे को सजाने की तमन्ना है तुम्हारी,

मेरे कमरे में किताबों के सिवा कुछ भी नहीं ।

- जौन एलिया

Image taken from pinterest

And one day, she also decided to leave.. I did not ask for an explanation this time, I was tired of asking people to stay. I have made peace with people going away.. holding on hurts, letting go hurts.

"Maybe one day", I am no longer waiting for that one day.. once gone, people never return, me having expectations puts a hole, only in my heart.

"People never return" or maybe I have fallen for wrong people all along?

Image taken from pinterest

~ Necromancer

I have read books after books, seen series after series, listened songs after songs. nothing, just nothing moves me anymore.

I have stopped caring about myself, my beard is unkempt, hell I don't even know how long it has grown. I don't even remember when was last time I looked at myself in mirror. I just do not want to look into my eyes anymore, what will I answer to my reflection? Who am I? What have I become? the existential dread I have is far more greater than my willingness for self care.

How long is my hair? when was the last time I had a haircut? Why do I feel no love? for myself, for others? I can't help but think about Gregor Samsa, how he must have felt when he turned into a bug, to not able to associate with your body, not able to recognize yourself, not able to care about yourself. How did he feel when none of his family members cared about him, the ones he expected some amount of sympathy were the ones who were the very first to abandoned him. How did it felt to be different? in the most unwanted way.

Maybe I know, No, I am not a bug, or some character from Kafka's dreadful fantasies but I have known all those feelings at some point of my life, those situation which make you stop and think, am I real or some figment of Kafka's stories?

Have you ever felt a moment where all eyes were on you and you felt like you were the oddest one of all humans which exist on this earth? If yes, you definitely know how it feels to be in my situation, this constant paranoia of my life which keeps on asking me to put a facade on my face is the reason I am always on the edge looking for a way to jump out of my skin and crawl underneath a chair just like Gregor.

I would be normal one day, I will look into my eyes someday. Hope it is not like Gregor.

(Image taken from Pinterest)

˜ Necromancer

I once dreamed I was a butterfly, and now I no longer know whether I am person, who dreamed I was a butterfly, or whether I am butterfly dreaming that I am a person.

~ Chuang-tzu

I am afraid of approaching someone now,

it was easier for me back when I was in school because we all basically had same lives, same cities, houses close by, smaller, similar circle of friends. even in college it was easier to catch up with whatever happened back in someone’s school days, we all shared similar school time tales, traumas, break up stories.

Approaching someone in adulthood is just like collision of two worlds (though it is true for all relationships be it school, college, work or any other stream of life), it all seems so overwhelming. The sheer aspect that another person has a different life altogether since last some 20 something years, they will be having completely different friend groups, so many life events, so many trauma. I do agree that humans are so beautiful when they’ve stories to tell and it is the beauty of randomness of everyone’s life that makes them unique.

Along with that there is a constant anxiety that time is slowly slipping away from you, as the later 20s creep in on you, this anxiety slowly grows bigger and bigger taking shape of a big question mark on yourself.

was I never enough? Will I ever find love? Am I supposed to be like this forever? Do I even deserve someone’s love?

The cycle of self doubt never ends.

As kafka said,

There are times when I am convinced I am unfit for any human relationship.

(Image taken from pinterest)

~ Necromancer

Temporary

I have been meeting people since long, I have seen temporary people, I have been with few. They are sometimes the most amazing people you will ever meet.

I met a person, temporary or not, I didn't knew if they will be here with me forever or not, we met, we talked, we went out a few times, and it was all amazing, felt like life couldn't get any better. We were eyesore to everyone around us, I wrote in my diary for them

"I have been living life in this dark abyss, the black and white world, they have brought back the colours of life to me, it all feels beautiful"

They went away, I was drowned in colours, all the colours they gave me. all the red, green, blue.

It should have been end of it all.

their return brought back all the colours, it was all rainbows and butterflies, it was as if I was a little kid who has been handed the crayons for the first time, excited, bubbly and ready to paint the world in their colours.

but sometimes, temporary people should remain temporary, they are meant to be.

maybe the temporary people shouldn't be given too much information about your life, that's the reason they are not permanent, right? because they are non-judgemental as long as they don't know about you.

Once you start making a temporary person a permanent one in your life, that is the moment you are destined to ruin your own feelings and respect for that person. such kind of people are meant to know very little about you, just meet them, have non-judgemental fun with them and move on. holding onto them will ruin your own mental being.

the return of that person in my life, was a pleasant surprise, but all the colours slowly blended into each other, creating a thick, viscous shade of crimson red. it was blood, my blood, the blood of my feelings. the slow, viscous decline of my sanity blending into some bit my self-destructing nature, triggering it all. just like a juicer cutting down all the pieces of fruits into a gooey mess, slowly turning the fruit into a thick paste of nothingness, just pure insides of the fruit.

for all I know, I was husk of a person remaining, all of my insides have been chopped up into the pieces, the pieces of my being, the pieces of my existence, broken, broken, broken down, mixed, churned, gulped and eaten alive.

the fruits which stay put tend to rot faster, they get replaced with new fruit. young and fresh. the one fear I hold came true to me, again.

I wrote for them again in my diary:

"all the colours which came back, were nothing but shades of red"

(Image taken from Pinterest)

~ Necromancer