When you realize that Barty Crouch Jr died in the chapter “The Parting of the Ways” in HP4 and the tenth doctor first appeared in the episode “The Parting of the Ways” of Doctor Who
HOLY BROWNIE IN A CUP
HOLY BROWNIE IN A CUP
First time on Tumblr in half a year! Prepare for six months worth of spam on how awesome and plain weird life is :D
Barely back, and off again! For at least two weeks this time. This holiday doesn’t seem to include much Tumblr for me, sadly… I’ll (finally) make it up to you all when I’m back again. Packing my bag now: ciao!
Dear everybody, I’m off to the Rockharz festival in the middle of Germany! Please don’t unfollow me just because I’m gone for about a week having loads of fun. :) I’ll write more when I’m back: my train is leaving in uhm… soon. Ciao!
Goodnight dear anon. I think that lately, I see her about once every three months. Is that often or seldom? It sure feels like the latter. I get jealous when I hear of people who see their best friends more often (and I hate feeling jealous). I miss her too, though, even if we’ve been apart for only a little while. I once wrote quite a bit about feeling that way in my diary-like thingy (which by the way, was inspired by her keeping one first). I’d rather not post it here, but I’ll send it to you if you come off anon. Anyway, have a wonderful day!
Every once in a while, I have this really strong realisation how beautiful a person my best friend is, in everything she thinks or says or writes or does, how she lives her life; she’s simply amazing and she deserves the world.
Then I think of how unfair life is, how I get some things out of it even though I totally blew it, and she… I don’t know how to explain. I just wish I could give up some of what I haven’t really earned and give it to her. A bit of life.
When I feel this way, I force myself to ignore it and try to forget it. If I don’t, it controls my day. It’s scary to admire someone this much.
I never tell her I feel this way, nor how amazing she is. I only dare post this here because I don’t think she reads my Tumblr.
I can’t read her Tumblr. It’s too much her. I freak out about the silliest things.
I really miss her, even though we met up yesterday. Perhaps because? I don’t know. I’d really like us to get together more often.
I could go on all night, but it’s really late and I’ve got a busy two days coming up. Anon, I’m really sorry for not answering yet, but I will, I will!
that spectacularly stupid half asleep moment when you think you can take a sip from your glass of water without sitting up.
In French, you don’t really say “I miss you.” You say “tu me manques,” which is closer to “you are missing from me.”
I love that. “You are missing from me.” You are a part of me, you are essential to my being. You are like a limb, or an organ, or blood. I cannot function without you.
I think you could fall in love with anyone if you saw the parts of them no one else gets to see. Like if you followed them around invisibly for a day and saw them crying in their bed at night or singing in the shower or humming quietly to themselves as they make a sandwich or even just walking along the street. And even if they were really weird and had no friends at school, I think, after seeing them at their most vulnerable, you wouldn’t be able to help falling in love with them.