Every soul is a weapon loaded to the muzzle with willpower.
Today, I took down the birds that flew so cheerily on my ceiling for the past year. It was sad, sponging down my torn tissue paper creations; I remember the painstaking amount of cutting and gluing that launched them in the first place.
Moving out is a scary kind of thing-- it focuses on negative, white space. White walls, bleached where photos were once lovingly taped. White closets with the ghost of dresses and tshirts. White papers, waiting with bated breath for the next onslaught of notes and exams.
With five finals and a paper on my plate, I made the fatal mistake of downloading a gameboy advance emulator, and now I have 35099 pokemon to catch, and no time to study. Every call I have made to mum has lasted four seconds, and consists of urgent appeals to "study hard". Damn it, mum, I have a magikarp to train!
Moving out is a scary kind of thing-- it focuses on negative, white space. White walls, bleached where photos were once lovingly taped. White closets with the ghost of dresses and tshirts. White papers, waiting with bated breath for the next onslaught of notes and exams.
With five finals and a paper on my plate, I made the fatal mistake of downloading a gameboy advance emulator, and now I have 35099 pokemon to catch, and no time to study. Every call I have made to mum has lasted four seconds, and consists of urgent appeals to "study hard". Damn it, mum, I have a magikarp to train!