1984 & the musketeers & frankenstein & me

-everyone ik is definitely tired to death of my opinions abt 1984 . they are screaming at me to back to reading political theory instead of dystopian novels

-mary shelley actually invented the first parasocial relationship ever w frankenstein. like maybe the delacey family should've had a family vlogging channel while they were at it

-going into the book without reading paradise lost first feels like a sin but reading anything before paradise lost feels like that tbh

-my friend texted me an hr before we had an essay for advice so i told him to google "paradise lost allusions poetry" as a joke . few hrs later he's texting me talking ab drowning as baptism and a ménage à trois with the ocean, the drowning supplicant, and god. which i'm sorry but is so fucking funny because the poem we had to write the essay over WAS literally just about . drowning. white boy goes all out for ap lit grade just to flop

-i finished the three musketeers & the only options left for my aching heart are to cope and seethe, to read the sequels featuring jaded older men who hate each other and do horrible things like die, to read the omegaverse foursome ao3 fanfics, or to watch the 2014 tv show adaption . and while some of these options are certainly more attractive i am partaking in them all to enrich my spirit

-i'd forgotten how much of an adventure reading could be tbh . the way dumas draws the reader across the page . rapid . eclectic . beautiful . anw stupid gay ass stupidngay ass stuoidnfrench gsy ass sotto voice gsy

-this is honestly a story of 4 men jerking off in parallel play . to me

-the funniest thing ever to me is when writers on ao3 have characters skyping .  i think d'artagnan and athos wouldn't have ever skyped i think thomas jefferson and alexander hamilton never would've skyped either

-2 of my artworks i entered into a contest are advancing to state!! mine are 2 of the 14 from my school that made it :D

-had a deeply touching moment where a girl tried to use her last 1% to show me a photo of her work but the phone died on us sadly..

-when i was getting out of the car to go to the contest my phone smashed on the pavement and just . splintered . sometimes when i type on my keyboard i fear i am embedding bits of glass into my skin . which is def some metaphor about my soul being slowly corroded  but it's 1am

-as a girl living in america forced to commute every day i probably have opinions on drivint shared exclusively by me and god fearing republicans with a wicket fence

yippeee first blog post yapping forevr