Tumgik
apaperbaginthewind · 2 years
Text
That wasnt the nicest thing to say, actually it was kind of mean :-(
I have a class in uni about Aristotle’s poetics and I’ve failed it twice, which means Henry Winter would be so disappointed in me
21 notes · View notes
apaperbaginthewind · 2 years
Text
When I say he knows the human soul this is what i mean, in context you feel it for Ivan and for yourself and without context it also makes you feel.
“I am too young and I’ve loved you too much.”
— Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov (via wordsnquotes)
16K notes · View notes
apaperbaginthewind · 2 years
Text
11:28 thoughts
A good friend is a paradox, ideally you do not notice their presence, just their absence and yet their presence is what you wish for.
1 note · View note
apaperbaginthewind · 2 years
Text
Early evening ponderings
Most of the time I am happy with the abilities and level of talent i posses...I may not be the smartest, the most elegant or the most beautiful, but still I am pleased with what I can do.
But then I will experience something or meet someone and suddenly I am not enough...In those moments I cannot help but feel my own inadequacy...I wish I could write like Fitzgerald, philosophise like Aristotle, paint like Millais or sculpture like Michelangelo. Because even in the moment as I feel something changing the course of my life forever I know...
I know that no matter how hard I try my words will never be enough to explain the experience I had so that people understand the profoundness. No matter the big words I use or the time I spend explaining I will just sound silly, not having the tools to convince them the rightness in my theories. No matter the adjectives I use the pictures i conjure up of flashing eyes and soft limbs and elegant fingers holding a cigarette, or the soft curl tucked behind an ear it will never be enough. Even now I cant stop myself from trying to make you understand, knowing fully well that I cant.
So in those moments all my feelings of contentment are washed away and I want nothing more than to be Baudelaire+Homer+Catullus+Botticelli+Bernini. Only then will I have the abilities to make the world understand the way a life can change with just a look or a touch.
1 note · View note
apaperbaginthewind · 2 years
Text
Interesting dream
Hello people on tumblr, Judy claims people on here know things about dream interpretation so maybe you could help me to understand what the dream I had last night meant...
The dream started with me walking around in a landscape filled with overgrown ruins, greek obviously (I think Henry could tell me where I was, but I dont want to bother him), and just feeling the wind on my face.
Then there was like a change in the air, i dont know how to explain it...like an electric current or as if i was truly seeing the world for the first time, again i dont know how to explain it, but everything around me sort of faded away.
All of nature seemed to focus in on one spot, birds stoped singing, the sun seemed to shine brighter and the wind stopped et cetera. As my gaze was directed towards that spot there was a man there. I assume he must have been teleported there or something...but in the dream it was almost like he had always been there, even through i know he wasnt.
The man was most beautiful man you could imagine, all golden curls and tan skin that almost seemed to shine in the sunlight. I usually dont notice male beauty, since im straight, but this guy was like a work of art, body like a marble statue and everything. And when he turned to look at me, i was reminded of those lines from sappho:
ἀλλ᾽ ἄκαν μὲν γλῶσσα †ἔαγε†, λέπτον δ᾽ αὔτικα χρῶι πῦρ ὐπαδεδρόμηκεν, ὀππάτεσσι δ᾽ οὐδ᾽ ἒν ὄρημμ᾽, ἐπιρρόμ- βεισι δ᾽ ἄκουαι,
†έκαδε μ᾽ ἴδρως ψῦχρος κακχέεται†, τρόμος δὲ παῖσαν ἄγρει, χλωροτέρα δὲ ποίας ἔμμι, τεθνάκ��ν δ᾽ ὀλίγω ᾽πιδεύης φαίνομ᾽ ἔμ᾽ αὔται·
Becuase even through I obviously wasn't in love with this man, again i am straight, he had an effect on me that can only be understood through poetry. And then he smiled at me, and it was the kind of smile Gatsby is described as having, and nine women danced out from behind him.
The women were as beautiful as him, and most of them had traits that reminded me of Camilla, the woman i love, a curl of hair hear, gray flashing eyes, her honey blonde hair or the way she moves her hand when she recites greek. Maybe that could help with the interpretations...
Anyways, the women all kissed my cheeks, eyelids and forehead, not in a romantic way, but more like a blessing... Again i dont know how to explain it, but as it happened I could feel my blood rushing, ready to commit the thought newly born to paper.
And then i woke up, so if you have any idea what this means, feel free to send me a message or ask :-)
2 notes · View notes
apaperbaginthewind · 2 years
Text
back after a day of classes, and can I just say that I think everyone should get the privilege to listen to Henry or Julian explain the classical world.
4 notes · View notes
apaperbaginthewind · 2 years
Text
How to fit in with pretentious elitist rich people when you're poor? Asking for a friend.
0 notes
apaperbaginthewind · 2 years
Text
00:04 AM
What we create will soon be destroyed. Time will become non existing and our existence obliterated.
1 note · View note
apaperbaginthewind · 2 years
Text
"To perceive is to suffer" - Aristotle
1 note · View note
apaperbaginthewind · 2 years
Text
Studying
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Right now I'm studying the writings about Erato, who was one of the muses. She was the muse for erotic poetry which is pretty cool.
In my research I found this poem about her that I really like:
Ah, suffer that my song To thee alonebelong: No dearer happiness my heart would choose Than thus to cast, O sweet, Each measured scroll before thy perfect feet, Having no other muse.
O wistful love! how well All that my lips would tell, All that the lyre's revibrant strings attest, Was writ upon thy breast With kisses keen and slow . . . So long, so long ago.
What tears are confluent From springs and summers spent, Feeding the fount of this our Helicon; And wine forlornly poured, Or spilt for thee, O maenad most adored, In feasts of moon or sun.
Let now some interval Of lyricsilence fall; Like heavy garlands let thy hair be shed About by brow and head, While songs unsung and sweet Within our pulses beat.
-- Clark Ashton Smith
0 notes
apaperbaginthewind · 2 years
Text
If she said that I apologize, obviously Henry can do math. Judy knows nothing
My biggest comfort in life is that Henry Winter can't do math either
2K notes · View notes
apaperbaginthewind · 2 years
Text
Sounds like Henry would say, I will have to ask him what he thinks tomorrow.
Reading the ancient languages connect us to a time before our existence, to people we will never get to meet and who's realities are only fragments around us.
19 notes · View notes
apaperbaginthewind · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Glastonbury Abbey, 23-04-2022
827 notes · View notes
apaperbaginthewind · 2 years
Text
Speaking 13 languages is impressive and I've heard him reading so many other languages, it is truly an honour to be in this mans presence...
And the rest of the greek class ofc
I do like every classmate equally.
Apart from Camilla ofc, since I love her.
Henry Winter: speaks 12 languages, translates books for fun, puts college professors to shame
Also Henry Winter: What book should I carry to the police station to make a better impression? Homer or Thomas Aquinas?
22 notes · View notes
apaperbaginthewind · 2 years
Text
“Who, being loved, is poor?”
— Oscar Wilde
534 notes · View notes
apaperbaginthewind · 2 years
Text
Don't we all just want love? To be loved, and love someone or something?
19 notes · View notes
apaperbaginthewind · 2 years
Text
More thoughts
Here are some things I've been writing in between studying grammar;
Sometimes, you just read a book that captures your thoughts so well that it feels like a day dream.
2 notes · View notes