I found a liquor store. And I drank it.

Jen | 19 | Leo | Love | Writer |

Danny Pink I was a soldier. There were other soldiers and some of them weren’t on our side - I shall leave it to your imagination.

(via maisiewilliams)

Reminder for all y’all going to school in September:

englishmajorhumor:

theawkwardandtall:

If you ask an English Major to read over your essay and they give you this look

image

Don’t take it personally.

English majors write. We write a LOT. And we are damn good at it, so we understand if we’re the ones you go to for help.

But keep these in mind:

- We can have as little as five and as much as 15 writing assignments every term (or even more if we are in honours or taking more than five courses at a time)

- We have to read perhaps 25 books (approx 5 books per course) on top of that.

- Those readings can include such masochistic texts as Shakespeare, Atwood, Soyinka, Derrida, Plato, Woolf, and much MUCH more.

- You are not the first person to approach us, nor will you be the last.

- No one can help get a good grade more than your course instructor.

If you finish reading this and you still want our help, please be considerate and ask us politely. Don’t force us, or else we will purposely edit it until it is worse than before. That is a promise.

Also, it never hurts to show some gratitude in the form of coffee and cookies. If you do this, we might help you again in the future.

Happy Writing

Important addition: Your college, in all likelihood, has a writing center! Use it! The students working there are paid for their time whether or not students choose to use the writing center, and on most days, the students who work their would prefer that that time actually be spent tutoring students.

I have no problem fielding brief writing and citation questions for my friends, but if they need more extensive help, I feel no shame in referring them to see me or one of my coworkers in the writing center.

Dear Stranger

writingsforwinter:

The other day I emptied my pockets and gave what was in them

to a homeless man: some bobby pins, a little bit of loose change,

a few ticket stubs, and a handful of notes written to various strangers.

One of them I found taped to the hood of a car;

it said If you’re reading this, I’m probably long gone by now.

On another, which had been floating in a bottle

by the side of the beach, was scrawled

For Lorna, the only woman I ever loved. You were my reason

to get up every morning; now you’re gone and I’m left

with a thousand reasons to sleep.

This man accepted all these little trinkets, all these odds & ends

of my soul with open arms, and never said a word.

When I was in ninth grade I moved through more hospitals

than my own skin; my mother once joked

that I should have a permanent collection of hospital gowns

in my closet instead of dresses.

She never understood how much that hurt,

or how, even to this day, I long for one of those anonymous notes

to be for me, just for me, for once,

for ever. How terribly beautiful it would be, I think,

if I were at the library one day and found a book there

with a folded piece of paper tucked inside, something that said

Dear Stranger, You think you deserve all this pain,

but one day you’ll wake up to the sound of someone showering

in the other room, and they’ll kiss your mouth full of soap,

and everything

will be beautiful again.

slapping:

things we said in school

  • i’m tired
  • i’m hungry
  • i don’t get it
  • i’m cold
  • what time is it?
  • i wanna go home

(via tarantinoe)

yes hello I would like to return to the age of 9 instead of the current age of 19