escilict replied to your post: I feel like a fucking kid

This is a reminder: You are not an idiot, you make people’s lives better and short-sighted, self-absorbed SU cockheads are stupid. I love you. Regards, the gf xx

I love you too, my girl. Thank you for listening to me rant in between gross sobbing. I really needed it, and you really helped. <3 xxx

If I could give you an award, I would. I realize that I’m a friend and may be a bit biased in your favor, but gheez. That is not fair. And I think you deserve at least something. You’ve made my life a little better, for what it’s worth.

Awww, thank you, mate. I’ve kind of calmed down at this point - I was just really, overwhelmingly disappointed, you know? You’re amazing - thanks for the sweet words. <3

NO SLEEP TILL BROOKLYN

5 pages to write

5 pages to write

5 pages to write

it’s 2:44 am

my beautiful girlfriend is upstairs sleeping in my bed with the electric blanket on

can’t sleep until I finish

deadline is too close

this is TORTURE

I WANT SOME FUCKING CUDDLES

FUCK YOU, RUM-RUNNING CHARACTER, WHY ARE YOU SO DIFFICULT TO WRITE

WHY

i am beginning to resent you, Patrick McQuarrie

watch your fucking back

Torrio could kill your ass and nobody would notice

one of 700+ gang fatalities, motherfucker

nobody would notice

My girlfriend's thoughts on tortoises, bush babies and marsupials (whilst on flu medication)

• Milady: This tortoise of unknown gender is in a shop and holding a balloon!
• Milady: I would be such a good tortoise - I already like lettuce, and I hibernate. Maybe I can have a tortoise dream. What do tortoises even dream about
• Milady: What's a tortoisely position that I can assume in order to have a tortoise dream
• Me: Compact and small, probably.
• Milady: But that's like a bush baby. I don't want to be a bush baby- bush babies are scary and they have freaky little hands and really big eyes
• Milady: tortoises have perfectly reasonable-sized eyes.
• Milady: Don't put my tumblr on it if you post this because I don't want the mean tumblr people to send me pictures of bush babies or anything marsupial-like. Marsupials are mammals but they have eggs... or they don't. I don't know, they are weird.
• Milady: I am going to have a safe, marsupial-free dream.

(via untitledunidentifiedunfinished)

Curling up with my lady and browsing tumblr on my iPod while she watches Swedish detective shows.

I got to read some Graham Greene and I love feeling this domestic. I really needed to wind down and this is the perfect medicine. Can’t think of a better person to relax with.

My girlfriend won’t get back in until around 1 or 2 in the morning…

So, with the help of one of my friends (and her flatmate), I set up a little surprise for her, since she had to be away during our anniversary.

Roses! (Featuring Sheepy and Dinosaur Cushion. Sheepy is safe around the Dinosaur Cushion, since he doesn’t have a mouth. Otherwise, this would be a problematic set-up.)

She’s not the biggest fan of surprises, but I hope that she’ll like this one. <3

… today is going to be weird without my girlfriend with me.

It’s our two year anniversary today (it’s almost 2 am right now, which is very close to when we agreed to go out again and had our first kiss) and I’m so excited to give her her gift…

But her grandmother passed away earlier this week, and she’s in Ireland for the funeral right now. And I get that and I’m not mad or upset at all - really, I’m not - but it’s… strange. Wow, it’s hard to phrase that without seeming really selfish and callous. Basically, I mean that this weekend is the complete opposite of how we expected it to be.

In short, I miss her, and I hope she’s alright, and I hope that her family is okay.

“karenfelloutofbedagain: Lots of things might happen. That’s the thing about writers. They’re unpredictable. They might bring you eggs in bed for breakfast, or they might all but ignore you for days. They might bring you eggs in bed at three in the morning. Or they might wake you up for sex at three in the morning. Or make love at four in the afternoon. They might not sleep at all. Or they might sleep right through the alarm and forget to get you up for work. Or call you home from work to kill a spider. Or refuse to speak to you after finding out you’ve never seen To Kill A Mockingbird. Or spend the last of the rent money on five kinds of soap. Or sell your textbooks for cash halfway through the semester. Or leave you love notes in your pockets. Or wash you pants with Post-It notes in the pockets so your laundry comes out covered in bits of wet paper. They might cry if the Post-It notes are unread all over your pants. It’s an unpredictable life.
But what happens if a writer falls in love with you?
This is a little more predictable. You will find your hemp necklace with the glass mushroom pendant around the neck of someone at a bus stop in a short story. Your favorite shoes will mysteriously disappear, and show up in a poem. The watch you always wear, the watch you own but never wear, the fact that you’ve never worn a watch: they suddenly belong to characters you’ve never known. And yet they’re you. They’re not you; they’re someone else entirely, but they toss their hair like you. They use the same colloquialisms as you. They scratch their nose when they lie like you. Sometimes they will be narrators; sometimes protagonists, sometimes villains. Sometimes they will be nobodies, an unimportant, static prop. This might amuse you at first. Or confuse you. You might be bewildered when books turn into mirrors. You might try to see yourself how your beloved writer sees you when you read a poem about someone who has your middle name or prose about someone who has never seen To Kill A Mockingbird. These poems and novels and short stories, they will scatter into the wind. You will wonder if you’re wandering through the pages of some story you’ve never even read. There’s no way to know. And no way to erase it. Even if you leave, a part of you will always be left behind.
If a writer falls in love with you, you can never die.”

My girlfriend has had a bit of a rough, stressful weekend.

So I’m going to clean my room, get enough food for tonight and meet her at the train station. She’ll be spending the night at mine, so I’ll make her some quorn tikka masala when she gets back to town (she’s pescatarian), and we might watch a film or two tonight.

Hope it goes well! I really want to surprise her when she gets home. <3