on holiday till july 19th

reading: 1984 - george orwell // hamlet - william shakespeare

watching: american horror story s2 // 90210 s5 // gossip girl s1 // casualty

writing: this

listening to: we must be killers - mikky ekko

You look beautiful today.

I now have a photography blog!

need help?: helplines // general

||

save the day, doctor
'alone is what i have, alone protects me'
I hope you have a great day.

need help?: helplines // general

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fassys:

Karen Gillan @ the Guardians of the Galaxy World Premiere in LA (July 21, 2014)

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tenscupcake:

*sigh*

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"You’ve been criticizing yourself for years and it hasn’t worked. Try accepting yourself and see what happens."

--Louise Hay (via rainysundaysandcoffee)
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doctordonah:

Ready for work experience next week yo

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For half of my childhood I was locked in a freezer, so being helpful is kind of a new thing for me.

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Ready for work experience next week yo

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Brick Moments [4/6] - I Ain’t a Judas

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ah cheers man!

this is the first (unedited) 500 words

‘You Can’t Design Your Own Life’

She sat with her arms folded across her chest like armour; in fact, maybe that’s why she did it. She had a habit of cowering behind her limbs when she was scared and today, today she was scared. Her room was small and on the walls hung designs hastily taped without much care onto the peeling yellow paint which was pockmarked with rips and chips from things she pulled off in a drunken haze. It was 12pm, morning for her when the hangover had faded just enough for her to stand with stumbling over the bedroom furniture which she seemed to see as some kind of obstacle course. The plumes of cigarette smoke bloomed like flowers from the ashtray where the smouldering object had been stubbed. A sigh dribbled from her lips like vomit as she forced down three paracetamol in an attempt to rectify the incessant pounding in her skull. Hammers on bone made a sickening sound. Focus. She had to focus. On her desk lay a stack of requests from clients, emails which she had printed as quickly as possible and in some cases the ink was dragged across the page, smearing the words, from where she had pulled the paper out too soon; the words were barely legible on these pages. 

A ‘To Do List’ by a hungover twenty five year old: 1) call Mum. 2) finish work for client. 3) drink water. 4) stop being a screw up.

She decided as she scribbled the words that she would start with number three and leave the seemingly impossible number four until the end. Drink. She glugged the water down her throat, breathing it in as if it was oxygen. She choked on it. The coughs spluttered from her mouth and she jerked her hand upwards in shock, spilling water on the pile of paper on her desk. “Fuck” she curses her clumsiness and desperately rushes over to her bedside table, wheeling on her desk chair, to get the box of tissues. “Fuck Fuck Fuck” She swore again in a repeated stream of mumbles as she wiped up the water that had smudged some of the documents further. 

A buzzing sound from her phone drew her attention away from the wet paper: a text ‘get your act together Jo, you can design a damn good logo but you can’t design your own life’ Reply? No. She turned off the mobile and placed it back on the wooden desk and turned her eyes back to the sodden tasks piled in front of her. A glance at the clock informs her that it 12:13pm, ‘almost time for a drink’, she thought. 

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im writing a short story about a  female bisexual 25 year old alcoholic graphic desinger bcos EHY NOT

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ameliasbox:

"You know when, sometimes you meet someone so beautiful, and then you actually talk to them and five minutes later, they’re as dull as a brick? then there’s other people, and you meet them and you think, ‘not bad; they’re okay.’ and then you get to know them, and their face sort of becomes them, like their personality is written all over it. and they just turn into something so beautiful. rory’s the most beautiful man i’ve ever met."

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