January 12th

10:56AM // 907 notes

oldbookillustrations:

Front cover from Hood’s poems, illustrated by Myles Birket Foster, London, 1871.

(Source: archive.org)

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December 24th

11:24AM // 60 notes

oldbookillustrations:

… With whom he affirmed he had danced at every Christmas for nearly half a century.

Cecil Aldin, from Old Christmas, by Washington Irving, London, 1908.

(Source: archive.org)

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11:08AM // 52 notes

oldbookillustrations:

Tolled the sweets from all the rosy lips of the country around.

Cecil Aldin, from Old Christmas, by Washington Irving, London, 1908.

(Source: archive.org)

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December 21st

11:33AM // 271 notes

oldbookillustrations:

Front cover from Old English ballads, collective work, London, 1864.

(Source: archive.org)

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December 20th

4:03PM //

Everything seems more fluent when you are awake. And not the Zen or ego free awake that is sold in texts and tongue. That particular conscience seems harder to atain..but then again everything seems. One way or another. I think the most important thing to remember is not to half step. I give no slack to nobody..respect to you if your flowing freely, regardless if I don’t agree or I’m not on the same wave length as you. In a way, we are. Are we, in many ways?…sorry, just trying to be poetic. Speaking of, I’ve written my best poetry in the last couple months. Funny thing is I havnt written a single word.

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December 2nd

9:24AM

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November 23rd

11:46PM

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November 1st

5:38PM // the pen and I

i’ve longed to write for a long time now

the other day

i picked up my mind and refilled my pen

then laid down the most

comfortable bed

and fell into it’s arms

i woke up and picked up my pen

and refilled my mind

then i began to right down

up left the creative flow

the nerve of I

the nerve and I eye the eyes of you

because yes,

yes 

this is what is golden

the rust encrusted raw outpour of mine own rich self

wealthy of self and donning the dawn of my potential

made

i am the don

calling a hit

on the little bastard

who is always write

my pen

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October 17th

1:44PM

we like to have these things on record

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October 5th

5:31PM // 68 notes

oldbookillustrations:

The nearer I got to the house, the drearier it appeared.

Louis Rhead, from Kidnapped, by Robert Louis Stevenson, New York, 1921.

(Source: archive.org)

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