.I am back in Brussels! I was welcomed by an unusually sunny weather, even though the temperature is remarkably different compared to the one in Italy. On Saturday I had to get up REALLY early, like 5am, in order to catch my flight. I am the kind of person that, when extremely tired, either feels nauseous for the lack of sleep or reacts by being hyper-active. Needless to say, this weekend I managed to keep myself extremely busy. We did not really spent the weekend lazying off, but took long walks in the countryside with Quentin's dog, gathering chestnuts and chamomile (we are chamomilophiles). We even went second-hand-furniture-hunting for the new apartment (that we don't have yet!). Cooked twice for his whole family (he has quite a large family, especially by Italian standards), baked chocolate chip cookies and chestnuts.
.I was wearing
.You can finally see my remarkably unremarkable ombre hair. I wouldn't have risked LLYMLRS-like blonde ends with my almost blackish hair! Too bad though, maybe I should have.
.And here are my new glasses. Will they make me feel comfortable about wearing glasses in public? I dearly hope so, as contacts are NOT an option in my world, as eye-make up isn't. I am a bit of an eye-freak, I find them just disgusting.
.I found this other amazing Shelley poem in the English literature book I am currently reading (and I am desperately trying to save, as I normally read books in a matter of hours, no kidding. I'm one hell of a fast reader, without spoiling the pleasure of reading though. And it did come in handy university-wise.). So enjoy some romanticism and have a great start of the week!
Autumn: A Dirge
The warm sun is falling, the bleak wind is wailing,
The bare boughs are sighing, the pale flowers are dying,
And the Year
On the earth is her death-bed, in a shroud of leaves dead,
Come, Months, come away,
From November to May,
In your saddest array;
Follow the bier
Of the dead cold Year,
And like dim shadows watch by her sepulchre.
The chill rain is falling, the nipped worm is crawling,
The rivers are swelling, the thunder is knelling
For the Year;
The blithe swallows are flown, and the lizards each gone
To his dwelling.
Come, Months, come away;
Put on white, black and gray;
Let your light sisters play--
Ye, follow the bier
Of the dead cold Year,
And make her grave green with tear on tear.
I was wearing:
H&M basic batwing pull,
Ray Ban glasses,
Thomas Sabo bracelet