Dark Academia
Just for a moment imagine yourself sitting at an old wooden desk on a summers night. You're hand writing a letter to your friend from boarding school. It's written in Latin and the curves of the cursive lettering is alluring. Classical music is ever so softly playing Vivaldi's Seasons Summer II off a record player. The breeze from your open window smells intoxicating. Your vintage wristwatch reads 11:37 pm, and the cup of tea you just made has left a light brown rim stain atop the page of your journal. Thoughts are racing through your head, and you let them.