Hello, my friends. Z, She/her. From Ohio but my heart lies in Exeter. Posting Sherlock, HP, and anything else that gets me through this hellscape of an epoch. Watch me have small daily breakdowns and read lots of fanfiction. Welcome!
being alive is like: you want to go home. you don’t know where home is. you want to go home. you don’t know where home is. you want to go home. you haven’t known for a long time. you want to go home but you don’t know where you’d go. you want to go home you want to go home you want to go home
Anonymous:
hello your hair looks really good and if nothing else is going well today i at least woke up to national news here in sweden that abba is recording new music again
People will say “write what you know!” But I know so little
“Bad books on writing tell you to ‘write what you know’, a solemn and totally false adage that is the reason there exist so many mediocre novels about English professors contemplating adultery.”
I really like how in Europe two things happen every time someone tries to dig a hole:
Either an ancient medieval artifact, some Roman ruins or a mass grave from the days of the plague are found, forcing everything to stop so the archeologists can begin to work.
Or a WW1 artillery shell or WW2 bomb is found, and a 10-block radius is evacuated while the local explosive disposal team arrives.
There’s never an in between.
Did anyone see that this happened in Exeter like two days ago? Unexploded WW2 bomb!
