February 2012
186 posts
I just read bad fan fiction after writing something terrible.
I’m going to go rinse my brain out with soap now.
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We’re supposed to build cathedrals in our own image of beauty, but we end up staring at a kiosk we’ve never seen before and we call it perfect because it wasn’t ours, or our parents, and the rain falls warmer here.
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Echoes of the Jazz Age- F. Scott Fitzgerald →
Maybe I’ll watch Midnight in Paris one more time.
Fuck. I’ve left all my washing in the washing machines in the amenities block for about 4 hours.
I wouldn’t be worried. But that load contains my Pokemon duvet.
BRB.
EURGH.
Sorry this is a whiny little bitch post.
I just had a fairly fascinating little lecture on Herman Melville and Nathaniel Hawthorne. Which has made me very happy. My seminar has been cancelled though ¬_¬ whoopdy fucking doo.
I got my Italian fascism/architecture essay back, and although he was very nice about it he essentially said it was 90% illegible garbage. + he knew I...
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Rambling stream of consciousness. Nothing to see here. Move along.
Mine eye and heart are at mortal war.
I suppose I love too much and love too little. I loathe being alone but I fear the distance a closeness to another human can bring. It’s not sex, it’s not romance, it’s not male or female, masculine or feminine, it’s mine and yours. It’s forever until it’s...
You know what is the most perfect film I’ve seen in a very very long time?
Midnight in Paris.
Midnight in Paris won’t legally stream eh?
Well legal download it is.
Fuck you bandwidth.
serencanis asked: You tucked your plaid shirt in. I am proud of you. Also, YOU CANNOT HAVE A DOG. ALSO A STARKID ANOUNCEMENT AND A JK ROWLING ANNOUNCMENT IN THE SPACE OF TWO DAYS MY FANGIRL BRAIN CAN'T HANDLE!!!
Anonymous asked: YOU CANNOT HAVE A...
but.
PLEASE BETH?!
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16 week old Boxer bitch on the Animal rescue site.
NO. no no no no no no.
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Today is trailer trash day. Today is wash day.
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daianotherday replied to your post: Must. Resist. Urge. To. Get. Dog.
You should totally get a dog. You could solve crimes together… Then write about them! Do it. (“,)
I have about 100001 reasons why I want a dog. XD Solving crimes is in the top 4.
Also going on adventures all around Middle Earth and scaring other students.
But then I have a 3 year limit on knowing what I’m going to be...
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Must. Resist. Urge. To. Get. Dog.
I AM SO BORED NOW. I NEED TO COME UP WITH THE NEXT STORY.
I really enjoyed writing that last one, I want to have 3 or 5 so it can be a proper collection- preferably all intertwining.
I have some idea of where this is going to go, but not quite all there yet.
It can’t get too complex though or I’ll lose all the threads.
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Wow. That was a bread shaped meal and a half.
Rice with chicken with bread.
So full up I’m half doped.
So. Who wants to illustrate that into a comic?
Anyone? XD
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Strongman.
He’s like the strongman under the Big Top. To anyone who looks, he’s a man of steel, strength and mystique. But to himself he’s still the little boy who ran away to join the circus, because he fell in love with an acrobat.
The little boy was so little. Much too little for anyone to look at him and smile properly. With teeth and eyes half shut by their lips. But what if he was big?...
alicevernon replied to your post: alicevernon replied to your post: I prefer Hal to…
Very, very deep. He’s so dapper and ughhh.
I think it has a lot to do with the fact he used to be a 19th century Lord.
His elocution cannot be beat XD
LORD HARRY.
alicevernon replied to your post: I prefer Hal to Mitchel.
(I also really, really like Hal). But shhh.
This is a secret we need to bury deep.
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I can’t sleep anywhere without central heating, carpets and radio 4.
– Hal- Being Human
I prefer Hal to Mitchel.
By the way, according to physics Quinn is dead as a doornail right now.
But this is glee, and things like science, and logic and psychology never mattered before so I wouldn’t worry.
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Glee. DID THAT JUST. WAIT. REALLY?!
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Coming soon to a blog near you.
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One day Duncan is going to meet a really angry Glaswegian and I only hope I’m there to witness it.
I just ate about 10 pancakes.
Wow. Nutritious.
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The old strongman knew the little boy was being rude, and selfish, and stupid.
It made his heart break a little for the hundredth millionth time in his entire life.
There wasn’t even a bruise to show for it.
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So he got angry at the gift. And went back to his suitcase and decided to ignore the old man.
He didn’t want to be little.
He wanted to be big.
So all the little things needed to go away and then when he was all alone with the big things he’d get big.
Because being little in a world of bigness is silly.
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The old man smiled a young man’s grin as he bowed to the enraptured silence.
The little boy walked towards the box of tricks, now lying all around.
He gripped the heaviest of all the weights and heaved with all his little might.
As he heaved and hauled, the old strongman looked among the weights and picked up the littlest one.
He decided to give it as a present; the little boy didn’t understand...
Tea & Arctic Monkeys anyone?
I need to clean. Everything. Now. But the kitchen and my desk have hit new lows. Shit is going to get real.
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How am I not dead. Everything within me is screaming at me to die. But it won’t let me.
Apparently I’m going out tonight.
My excuse for not doing the work for my weekly Monday seminar?
Sufficient.
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It’s kind of awesome and at the same time incredibly depressing when you know you’re over someone because they just gave you their most dazzling, genuine smile, and it’s great and everything but your stomach neglects to do a triple back-flip.
Hahaa, my dad just visited the Krakow salt mines I saw in year 9 and I’m texting him about all the awesome stuff I saw he’s just seen. Like a 50 foot high hand carved under ground church, and some dwarf mannequins.
It’s like weird non-linear bonding overseas.
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I decided my journal has been looking decidedly scribbly and rambling. A good old sketch makes everything legit!
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…
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The old man slept lightly, his brain too full and his heart too broken to rest.
He heard a strange sound, so he looked outside and saw a stranger sight.
He opened his door.
He went outside.
He sat down and offered a tissue.