Sina’s friend’s birthday party at a cabin by a lake. Good stuff. Even better stuff being that I had the foresight to take a book with me so that around 3 AM when the dudes were (by the sound of it) having a drunken orgy in the sauna, I had something more interesting to do. And in the process I managed to recommend Malazan Book of the Fallen (the book I was/am reading is Forge of Darkness) to at least three people, and one of them even seemed to remember said conversation in the morning.
Downside is that this is really not a book I should be reading in public. Though, at that point I doubt anybody really paid much mind to me squealing at the first encounter of Caladan Brood or Spinnock Durav or every single time Silchas is as much as mentioned…
I dont really know whats going on buT GO FOR IT! Take a chance instead of regretting not lunging for it years from now.
What’s going on is that I may be going to Slovenia next autumn and studying there for the next year. And I really. really. want to do this. But I’m also terrified. But I probably will do it anyway because heck, exactly as you say, I’ll regret it forever if I don’t and I’ll never get anywhere if I don’t step out of my comfort zone and yes.
Also, thanks. <3
You can do it! :D
…Sort of. Just handed it in, at 1800-ish words but fuck it. I comfort myself by telling myself it can’t possibly be the worst essay he’s ever read. Okay, I guess it technically can, but. Hey, it’s on time!
Also, thanks. <3
Current word count: 1358
Required word count: 2000-2500
Deadline: in 1,5 hours
Level of self-loathing: over 9000
I applied to the Erasmus exchange program a while back, well, obviously when the application period was on, but didn’t hear anything back and thought they didn’t pick me and just forgot to tell me or something. But now I got an e-mail saying that it still needs to be confirmed with the target university but it’s okay with my home university. What do I do oh god panic I want to do this and I need to do this now if I’m going to because I’m not getting any younger here but just panic.
iamthewoodendoor replied to your post: All of a sudden I cant stop listening to Dead End…
At first I didnt like this album, but now I like it very much.
I think it took a while for me too, then I liked it a lot, then got bored of it and now I haven’t been listening to Katatonia at all for a while, until suddenly… bam. Listening to it for a few hours already… x)
There’s an annoying trend in new Katatonia, though, that it’s very frustrating to sing along to. The last two albums I think. Can’t really pinpoint what it is that makes it so, but I think it’s a combination of Renkse’s articulation and asdf what’s the word in English? Vocal arrangements? Anyway. ^^;
All of a sudden I can’t stop listening to Dead End Kings. Well, now, brain, isn’t this all kinds of random…
Renkse looks so much like my best friend & ex that I honestly don’t know anymore.
One of these days
Hours pass yet the night stays
When your spirit won’t turn anew
The world shuts down with no goodbye to undo you
Mistah Kurtz—he dead. A penny for the Old Guy I We are the hollow men We are the stuffed men Leaning together Headpiece filled with straw. Alas! Our dried voices, when We whisper together Are quiet and meaningless As wind in dry grass Or rats’ feet over broken glass In our dry cellar Shape without form, shade without colour, Paralysed force, gesture without motion; Those who have crossed With direct eyes, to death’s other Kingdom Remember us—if at all—not as lost Violent souls, but only As the hollow men The stuffed men. II Eyes I dare not meet in dreams In death’s dream kingdom These do not appear: There, the eyes are Sunlight on a broken column There, is a tree swinging And voices are In the wind’s singing More distant and more solemn Than a fading star. Let me be no nearer In death’s dream kingdom Let me also wear Such deliberate disguises Rat’s coat, crowskin, crossed staves In a field Behaving as the wind behaves No nearer— Not that final meeting In the twilight kingdom III This is the dead land This is cactus land Here the stone images Are raised, here they receive The supplication of a dead man’s hand Under the twinkle of a fading star. Is it like this In death’s other kingdom Waking alone At the hour when we are Trembling with tenderness Lips that would kiss Form prayers to broken stone. IV The eyes are not here There are no eyes here In this valley of dying stars In this hollow valley This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms In this last of meeting places We grope together And avoid speech Gathered on this beach of the tumid river Sightless, unless The eyes reappear As the perpetual star Multifoliate rose Of death’s twilight kingdom The hope only Of empty men. V Here we go round the prickly pear Prickly pear prickly pear Here we go round the prickly pear At five o’clock in the morning. Between the idea And the reality Between the motion And the act Falls the Shadow For Thine is the Kingdom Between the conception And the creation Between the emotion And the response Falls the Shadow Life is very long Between the desire And the spasm Between the potency And the existence Between the essence And the descent Falls the Shadow For Thine is the Kingdom For Thine is Life is For Thine is the This is the way the world ends This is the way the world ends This is the way the world ends Not with a bang but a whimper.