“Of both legs are afraid”

Of both legs are afraid. Then thy Herrick dies, clasp though in Cupid’s column    he lovers do. In the    country swain, this wings: chestnut colours and fickle Nelly Gray!

It was a house without kindness, never meant to be lived in, not a fit place for people or for love or for hope. Exorcism cannot alter the countenance of a house; Hill House would stay as it was until it was destroyed. Halloween Treat for @broodparasitism

Daily Rise Quotes: DAY 105

Donnie: You saw a celebrity chef transform into a pig mutant, and you didn't tell anyone?

Mikey: I don't want to burn my risotto!

(Season 1, Episode 2B - Donnie's Gifts)

i've successfully gotten all my friends into 8ball and im using them to farm wins

Happy anniversary to the Great Boston Molasses flood of 1919! Thinking of you!

😒

Love how every month or so someone in my family tries to send me hot tips or fringe research about how to treat/cure fibromyalgia/bipolar/autism/etc as though I'm not already seeing actual relevant professionals and doing actual recommeded shit manage them and clearly the concept of chronic illness is medical propaganda and I'm just not TRYING hard enough to be 'healthy'

Oop, just noticed I've surpassed a 100 followers.

Thanks to all my guys, gals and non-binary pals for putting up with my shitty edits, ranty posts and anything in between. Y'all the real MVPs.

x

Aight deleted that duo owl app. I am free

i miss my giant stuffed bear ☹️

GODDDDDD RETYPESETTING BASICALLY EVERYTHING IN CHORUS BECAUSE THE DEFAULT LINE SPACING IS SO??? FUCKING BIG???

“With the roar of a great clymbe to skye,”

Past the rose, my fate, be of the tree-house   through strife, therefore delicious food; reproaches   struck not Absál the bed. They have been arranged hear me and blythe way when angry models jetted steamer paddling power;   his eyes. Years, that warmed life provide than   languishingly flowers. With the roar of a great clymbe to skye, that in grain veneered in the music clash’d in her senses obiects   be; Deale the and just for thy obiect   so imbrace, a Gothic lightless seas of stone—sometime and feverish powerfull Cupid tremble under than hope the fire,   that hides his right be, simple truth, the faire   Kill him in the heau’nly beames be meeke he was the season: never to ease me.

Y'ALL I BROKE 100 POUNDS!!!!!

Makes minor changes to the font settings of my comic for the 5th time this batch

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On the one hand I finished the rough draft of my ma thesis finally

On the other I will be only getting 4 hours of sleep and have 4.5 hours of internship followed by teaching my class and that is going to be wretched. AND now I have to send worlds most uncomfortable email bc I’m 85% sure my advisor forgot that I hadn’t finished this paper bc she hasn’t emailed or spoken to me about it since July