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Always an angel, never a god

@wanderluststhings / wanderluststhings.tumblr.com

Vanessa, ‘96, Peruvian. Whatever’s in my head or dash at the moment, really.
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aeolianblues

Other bands’ fan accounts: pics of the band members looking good or doing fun, endearing or silly stuff

Fontaines fan accounts: *devastating, life-altering poetry a band member, often Grian, casually dropped*

One of my absolute favourite things about Fontaines. And thank goodness for these fan accounts, I think the band is almost throwaway about some ideas that many other bands would kill to have once in their careers. All hail, Fontaines.

#now i say ‘usually grian’ but some of the most devastating things i retain from this band have come from#interviews with carlos or deego for me personally so just take it that this is an entire band of ideas#they’re all just like that. no wonder to me then; that they formed over a shared love of poetry and literature#and the idea of the band only came after#<- some og post tags#I know not as many bands are Lead Singer and His Buddies#but this is a case where the cool ideological thing#(for lack of a better word)#is shared by many members in a similar way#so it’s harder if not impossible to love their poetry and see them through a Grian and the Grians lens#the fact that they’re all game for (individual) interviews helps#and most importantly#at least this cycle (correct me if I’m wrong)#it wasn’t just Grian writing the lyrics#so yeah everyone’s a poet here#they were just listening a lot to The Strokes while reading poems
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beautiful-basque-country

Udazkena Iratiko oihanean. Fall in the Irati forest (Nafarroa).

Why is it called jungle in Spanish and Basque when it's clearly a forest? It's a fossil of Navarrese Romance. Selva comes from silva, the Latin word for forest. In Castilian Romance, it soon lost its meaning to define a forest and became the word for jungle. However, it survived with the original meaning in Navarrese, and has survived in the name of this forest until our days.

Ernest Hemingway talked like this about the Irati forest in his novel "The sun also rises".

Every time I think of Irati, my hair stands on end. I remember that I used to come here just when the Fiestas (San Fermin) were over to get lost in the forest. Here, in the heart of the woods, I stay waiting for Basajaun, the Lord of the Forest, to come and greet me.

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