'I want to make beautiful things, even if nobody cares.' - Saul Bass // Warona, 17, aspiring writer and musician living in the UK. Currently working on my second novel, which should be complete by the end of August/Beginning of September. Currently taking a minor break to work on it. Click the tags under my posts to explore them, or use the explore menu above. Lots of Love. xxx //

August 23rd
6 notes
3:05 am

Working up until 2am on this. I’m not fooling around!

August 22nd
25,002 notes
10:29 pm

I’m not used to being loved. I wouldn’t know what to do.

F. Scott Fitzgerald, More Than Just A House (via 5weetsorrow)

i was thinking about this on my run this morning i cannot imagine somebody running beside me or waiting for me to get back and this is liberating but also very scary

(via sealip)

(Source: fitzgeraldquotes, via inkheartt)

Filed as: other prose  

August 21st
43 notes
12:01 am

Filed as: eikasia   prose   spilled ink  

August 21st
11 notes
12:00 am

Novel Break

Over the summer I’ve been twiddling my fingers, procrastinating and putting off finishing my second novel. I’ve decided to knuckle down and try get it complete by the end of this month, which means my activity on this blog might lack. I’ll have a day where i write a tonne of poems and queue them, but for the meantime it’s crucial that I try and finish this project.

Also, once it’s done, I plan on going back to my first novel and (almost) rewriting it, so I can do something special with it for you all!!

Wish me luck in finally getting this novel and over and done with, and stay tuned because I have some big plans ahead!!

(Source: cascadingletters)

Filed as: update ^.^  

August 20th
1 note
5:18 pm
Anonymous: Where did you get your title 'the philosopher queen' from?

It’s the title for my third novel, which is the second novel of a trilogy I’m working on. x

Filed as: asks   Anonymous  

August 20th
3 notes
10:43 am

For so long I’ve wanted to write work about the tragedy of Mike Brown and the issues of race in police brutality/institution/society but I just can’t get myself to do it. It’s extremely difficult to write down. I can only just try comprehending it in my mind.

Filed as: personal  

August 20th
505 notes
10:38 am

Filed as: I'm feeling this rn  

August 20th
113 notes
12:10 am


Michael Brown
on a hot

The dark skinned
in Pakistan’s
blown apart by
heroic drone pilots
comfy in Colorado

"Is there
a plan,
a policy,
or just

Saith the

Or shall
we believe
in random
of evil?

Filed as: other poetry  

August 19th
220,296 notes
4:07 pm

Filed as: other prose  

August 19th
49 notes
3:45 pm

Filed as: eikasia   prose   fiction   spilled ink  

August 19th
643 notes
12:58 am

Salvador Dali ~ "Dali’s Hand Drawing Back the Golden Fleece in the Form of a Cloud to Show Gala,Completely Nude,the Dawn,Very,Very Far Away Behind the Sun",  1977

Salvador Dali ~ "Dali’s Hand Drawing Back the Golden Fleece in the Form of a Cloud to Show Gala,Completely Nude,the Dawn,Very,Very Far Away Behind the Sun",  1977

(Source: pixography, via waronaprecious)

Filed as: visual  

August 18th
2,089 notes
8:15 pm

At our graduation party, he turns to me, still wearing his grad cap, and winks. I like the way you dance, he says. I have something to show you. Come to my car. I hesitate. I’m not sure, I tell him. All of my friends are here. Come on, he insists. Live a little.

OK now he was close, tried to domesticate you.

I walk four steps behind him to the driveway. I can hear the sounds of the party in the distance. Everybody I know is on the other side of the wall, but here, with his teeth gleaming, they seem so far away.

But you’re an animal, baby, it’s in your nature

He pops his trunk and pulls out a six-pack. Want one? he asks. I shake my head. He hands me one anyway. This is a party, he says. Have some fun.

Just let me liberate you

I pick up the bottle and gingerly take a sip. He downs his in one gulp. Then he leans forward and reaches out to where I am standing. He laces his arm around my hips and pulls me so I am leaning beside him on his car. Why are you so far away? he asks.

And that’s why I’m gon’ take a good girl

He begins panting in my ear and telling me how good I look in my dress. The dress my mother bought me for the occasion. I squirm. I try to break his hold. I tell him my friends are probably wondering where I am. I say, I want to go back inside.

I know you want it

He laughs. He puts his lips to my ear and tells me to have some fun. I feel his tongue slip into my mouth and go numb. My fingers begin to shake. I try to move away and he puts his hand on my stomach until it bruises and pushes me against the car, hard.

I know you want it

He puts his hand around my neck and begins kissing me. My tongue hangs there. I try to scream and end up only tasting him.

I know you want it

My legs go dead as his hand creeps up my thigh. I kick his shin and he smiles, then bites my lip before slipping his fingers behind my underwear. I squeeze my eyes shut. I dig my nails deep into my hand. My toes curl helplessly.

You’re a good girl

I feel him unbuttoning his jeans one-handed and using the other to completely restrain me. I think about how easy this is for him to do. I begin beating my head against the car, harder and harder. The thumping sound does not even slow him.

Can’t let it get past me

He is pulling himself out of me with a smile. There is no condom in sight. My underwear are ripped and at my feet. I look at my legs and notice I am bleeding.

I hate these blurred lines

With his arm still tied around my waist he asks, This wasn’t your first time, was it? My eyes are still shut. I do not say anything.

The way you grab me

The way you moved in that dress and your smile. Damn, I saw you from across the room. And the way you laughed at other guys’ jokes. If I didn’t get on that one of them would.

Must wanna get nasty

He grins. I knew I was going to get lucky tonight, but not as lucky as you made me.

Do it like it hurt, like it hurt

He lets go of me and I am hit with a sudden burst of air. I fall to the ground, heaving, as I listen to him open his trunk and crack open another beer.

What you don’t like work?

I’m going back to the party, he says. I lie still on the ground, feigning death. Are you coming? He reaches down to touch me and I begin to shake. Fine. Suit yourself. You should clean yourself up anyway.

I know you want it

I listen to his footsteps echo away. I try to sit up and collapse onto my knees. My limbs refuse to work. For the first time, I hear the sound of someone crying and choking on their breath. It takes me to realize it is me.

I know you want it

I roll myself to the front of the driveway and lie, with my head against the concrete, crying. On my legs there is still dried blood and cum. I open my mouth and nothing comes out.

I know you want it

I lie on the ground for the rest of the night, convulsing. I hear him
come out hours later with his friends, look at me, and laugh. I listen to him tell them I must be another “shit-faced bitch.” I stay still. I dig my nails deep into my hand. I try to scream and end up only tasting him.

I Hate These Blurred Lines | Lora Mathis

In italics are the lyrics to Robin Thicke’s “Blurred Lines” (via lora-mathis)

(via lora-mathis)

Filed as: other poetry   tw rape  

August 18th
33,281 notes
9:39 am


i love movies so much i love the power of film and how they affect me and everyone and different genres and their beauty and different opinions and different cinematography techniques and colour palettes and good acting and interesting story and relatable characters and well written characters and good characterization and drama and good writing and tight direction and oh my god i’m so emotional i love film so much 

(Source: abbaskiarostamis, via etrielle)

August 14th
82 notes
12:35 am

Filed as: prose   fiction   eikasia  

August 13th
2,062 notes
8:59 am


"Bloodstream" - Ed Sheeran

Filed as: music