21|06|2022

I haven’t finished Emma yet, but I have a theory. I’ve had this theory ever since we first saw Emma, Harriet, and Mr. Elton in a room together, but I’m just sharing it now. I think Mr. Elton might like Emma and not Harriet? No, I’m nearly positive. I guess we’ll see?

This very morning, my history professor picked up the book I was reading, looked me in the eye, and said “Don’t read Wuthering Heights.” He then proceeded to walk away and continue class.

The sound was muffled; all he could see was Theo’s gorgeous eyes, looking down at his sketch. He leaned closer to see what he was drawing, placing his face closer to Theo’s. Theo smiled over yet another drawing of Alexander. Alexander looked back up at his eyes, and Theo couldn’t pretend not to notice him this time. Alexander’s face was angled in such a way that he was looking up at Theo, quite a rare occurrence. Theo looked straight into those emerald eyes that stared into his. Alexander moved so that his head rested in Theo’s lap and his legs dangled down the hill. His eyes glanced down at Theo’s lips.

Without thinking, Theo pulled his lips up to meet his, a perfect moment, a perfect moment. Warmth spread through Alexander as if he were drinking a scalding cup of hot chocolate in bed on a cold night, the warmth burning the back of his throat and spreading through his body. His hand reached up behind Theo’s head, clutching onto his tawny curls. He didn’t want this moment to end; he couldn’t let it. His mouth did not leave Theo’s, his fingers intertwined in Theo’s hair. He could feel Theo’s hand move down to his back. Their lips parted, a too-long goodbye. Theo looked at him, some sort of expression on his face, not exactly a smile. Alexander shared it. Alexander closed his eyes as Theo sprinkled magnolia leaves on his face, laughing. He knew this moment was never meant to last.

“Is it foolish to speak of little joys that occur in the middle of tragedy? It is our humanity. Whatever we have left of it. We must not deny it to ourselves.”

— Ilya Kaminsky, from Still Dancing: An Interview With Ilya Kaminsky by Garth Greenwell

Can any of us really claim to be happy if we haven’t danced in the rain? Held hands with the moon? Had poetry carved to our name? Had our favorite book annotated and presented as a token of full fledged alliance?

This is what I found when I searched Giulia on Pinterest.

the cryptography students

messy handwriting, rushed scribbles on the page

the satisfaction of untangling a particularly difficult substitution cipher

coming up with your own codes 

half-finished crossword puzzles tucked into your bag

seeing patterns everywhere you look

analyzing how information travels from person to person through the internet

the familiar weight of a calculator in your hand

a fascination with puzzles and mysteries

secrets told in hushed whispers

valuing privacy and security

reading about the history of codes and codebreaking

applying elegant, pure math to the real world

the shining rotors of an antique cipher machine

a chessboard, frozen in the middle of an unfinished game

the elegance of a well-constructed cipher, easy to encode but difficult to break

passing encoded notes back and forth with your friends

a stack of thriller novels on your bookshelf

watching old spy movies, laughing at the inaccuracies

a powerful sense of determination, refusing to give up

understanding the importance of cryptography in the internet age

the tips of the wings stuck out so I made them into cat ears (her name is either purra bellum or pawra bellum)

This is the only tiktok you'll ever need, I've made about 13 of these and I'm not stopping anytime soon