March 2011
6 posts
fuck latin
future active participles, present passive participles, dative, ablative, genitive, accusative, nominative second person plural.. what the actual hell. I’ve never wanted to kill myself more in a two hour lesson of latin
if it wasn’t already a dead language i’d kill it all over again.
piss kidney.
milling about in the creepy windowless library basement, but it’s all...
Last night
Mim told me I looked grown up. I like dressing in a way that makes me look grown up.
I also was told i walked like forrest gump when he wore braces when i was trying to not stretch my jeans.
I was also told i was behaving in a dominatrix-esque manner. And I dressed a little dominatrix.
But i’m clinging to grown up
It's ten thirty in the morning,
and my housemates and I have already gone from talks of curry (and generally other food/beverage) shits, to funny places we’d hang ourselves around the house for our other housemates’ inconvenience. I love flippant conversations about death.
And my house/mates
never mind the reading list
But she did look back, and I love her for that, because it was so human.
It makes a change, to read something unpretentious, and to get goosebumps and forget the bustle of my surroundings in the library cafe.
