Peculiar. Writer, dreamer, and a bit of a bubble head. I like to imagine fighting dragons. I have a thing for accents and making items. I write little fics and sing fandom songs. If you ever want me to do something, just ask. I'm usually agreeable, but never quite myself.




Sometimes I think to myself, “do I really want to buy another chocolate bar?”
And then I remember that there is a super volcano under Yellowstone that is 40,000 years overdue and when it erupts it could potentially cover most of north America in ash and create a volcanic winter that kills half the worlds population
And I’m like, fuck yeah I want that chocolate bar

This is one of the most inspiring posts i’ve ever seen

Finals are next week, two of which are back to back on Monday. I’m not ready, I don’t believe this at all.
Then I have market on Friday (hopefully selling some calligraphy) and then prom on Saturday. Next week is busy as hell.

It’s one week from finals, don’t add your bucket of stress on me, I can barely handle my own.

Psst, tumblr friends, do you have suggestions of things that would make this day suck less?
I mean, I still have to suck it up, and rewrite my essays and cram a bunch of studying in, but if anyone has a way to make this day not a total bastard, so I don’t cry or scream or break something, that would be magnificent.

Just because you’re a cranky sixty-something woman who has a doctorate in English, doesn’t mean you can judge me for shit. You teach at a fucking community college, and do nothing but grade papers and go home to your house cat.
I’m sixteen, trying to do a full college load plus high school, try and get a job, manage my tiny online business, and five cats. Plus, when I was fourteen I published a 400 page novel.
You aren’t shit compared to me, so next time I have a question because I don’t get your dumbass policies the week before finals, don’t think of treating me like a dead slug who’s not going to amount to anything, because I’ve done more in two years than you have in fifty.

School’s a lot more manageable when I pretend to be Moriarty’s assistant, and I plan something with a bit of spark and dazzle.

I’m writing an essay on whether students are customers, and if they’re always right and such. This is ridiculous.
My answer: No. You aren’t a customer if you’re a student, you’re more like an intern or apprentice, because you are learning services and skills through another.

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