Confessions of a Prickly Plant

History student and general lover of 'old things.'

The pieces that make up my life?

Smiley people, rainy walks on the beach, laughing, chocolate, surfing, being outside, listening to great musicians, reading, writing, languages, singing loudly, giraffes, old pretty things, the sound owls make, Gaeilge, broccoli, gramophones, the smell of hoof oil, travelling, whickery horse noises, sleeping outside, BSL, saddle soap, family, summer evening smell, photographs, funny people, Pink Lady apples, flying lanterns, melty tarmac, pebbly beaches, Suffolk, the colour green, horseshoes on concrete, grand pianos, bunting, winding staircases, Coca-Cola, rainstorms, the word 'gawp', sloe gin, cross country jumps, midnight walks, Ireland, ribbons, homeade lemonade, bumble bees, snowy silences, analogue cameras, the smell of new books, nonsense poems, bourbon biscuits, pine trees, beach huts, cinnamon, derelict buildings, art galleries, old fashioned street lamps, my friends, weak orange squash, new pyjamas, gypsy caravans, Innocent smoothies, cloudy mountains, swimming, Aldeburgh chips, ducks, pesto, not being on a boat and not being near a pig.

I find myself more closely drawn to watching people come and go, than to my work

I am the glum looking girl in the corner by the change machine - laptop balanced on my left knee; notebook on my right; mug of tea on the floor by my left ankle. I feel to sad to work - or maybe, simply, just too lazy and discouraged. Who knows. 

There is a lady with the most beautiful hair sitting in front of me. Waves right down to the middle of her spine, and she hasn’t once looked up from her work. I find myself wishing I had her grace - her arms and hands are so delicate and she sits with such poise. So far from my clumpy, cross-legged, belly outwards slump back into my chair.

An overweight man with a beard is standing by the loans desk with his rucksack hitched up onto his nonexistent hip, searching desperately for his library card. I can’t see the librarian, but I can imagine her, mask of perfect patience, but her toe twitches underneath the desk.

The table a little way in front of me is piled high with textbooks and a bag of Malteasers, but it’s inhabitants are nowhere to be seen.

The man sitting down on the far end is typing furiously. There’s a pencil sticking out of his mouth, pointing straight ahead. I wonder if he knows it. I imagine him packing up, carefully putting everything back into his bag in perfect order, yet leaving with the pencil still in place.

I wish I could stay like this for a little while longer. I wish I didn’t have to face what I surely have to face.

catsbeaversandducks:

Abandoned House in the Woods Taken Over by Wild Animals

Finnish photographer Kai Fagerström presents unique photo series, where he captures wild animals making themselves comfortable in abandoned houses in the woods of Finland. Titled The House in the Woods, the photo series is set in cottages near Kai’s summer house, which were abandoned by their tenants after the owner of the place died in a fire. Award-winning photographer noticed how the place was slowly being reclaimed by the nature, and what started as a few snapshots, ended up being a book, published in Finnish, German, and English.

“Deserted buildings are so full of contradictions,” says Kai. “I am fascinated by the way nature reclaims spaces that were, essentially, only ever on loan to humans.” Kai usually works with a clear image of what he wants to achieve in his head, although it make take some time for all elements to fall into place. The photographer has enough patience, however: “This is fine with me,” he says. “The journey is more important than the destination.“

All via Bored Panda

(via inmyprivateuniverse)

Also, I really do miss being this age, when the world is still big enough to escape into.

Also, I really do miss being this age, when the world is still big enough to escape into.

(Source: herpaperweight, via florencings)

Spending these days avoiding people

Bumping into the people I’m avoiding in the most unlikely of places.

Please just leave me alone, I don’t want to talk.

My life right now is not a discussion point.