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#carried books everywhere
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I've never seen Goncharov, but I knew the name rang a bell--in my much loved (as you can see) x-files episode guide, the critics list it as one of the many ham-handed references sandwiched into Redux I (as noted here by Mr. Cornell, one of Chris Carter's worst episode ever <3)
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tjr fans when mick riva
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buriedaliens · 5 months
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Super Mario RPG: Legend of the Seven Stars is still one of my favorite Mario games.
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cj-kenobi · 1 year
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trans obi-wan be upon ye
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missbcm · 8 months
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ironmandeficiency · 10 months
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my mom just gave back what was my most prized possession for most of my high school career. all 232 tabs are labeled and in as good condition as they were when i last saw the book
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waveofahand · 25 days
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Chapter 5: Chasing Beauty
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In Chapter 5 of "Here, There and Everywhere" (Book III of Carry that Weight) George Martin gives the McCartney songs on Revolver a good listening to, ("Only someone who has known a private agony and has thought about all the deep and quiet ways people suffer could have written Eleanor Rigby," he thought...)
He and John Lennon argue about another take for Revolver, while Paul's maturing compositions leave both of them studying his work with something like awe.
And John remembers something very frustrating, and very sexy...
So....
This is may be the first time I've had to interrupt myself in mid-chapter, but I have to. The thing was supposed to be about 8,000 words long -- 6,000 of them absolute SLASH -- but something has come up this week that is challenging and so (because I don't want to go too long between chapters) here is the first part of that chapter, which is mostly an atmospheric, "backgrounder." We are somewhere in May of 1966 and the boys are still recording Revolver, prepping for a tour none of them really want to do, and the "bigger than Jesus" stuff hasn't yet blown up, although that's coming. For the sake of the story I have not held perfectly to the recording dates of all the songs.  PLEASE NOTE: this chapter was supposed to end with an epic bit of slash -- about 4,000 words of it -- but I have decided to put that off until next week, when I can write it with a clear head, as this week has.... challenges.
So... I hope it doesn't bore you -- and be ready for the UTTER PSYCHOSEXUAL SLASH that will be chapter 6, which will simply be called: "Wales, Summer, 1961."
For now... Here is Chapter 5, "Chasing Beauty." It's short, but I hope you like it.
(Oh, no, I wasn't making a joke, Paul....)
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yourtokentrophywife · 2 years
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i feel like oliver is the type of person that doesn’t know what “playing for fun” means
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babygirlgiles · 4 months
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2023 really was the year of geese for me, wasn’t it
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daftpatience · 3 months
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hi!! im the artist whos hobonichi pages u just reblogged. just wanted to say i loved reading your tags and highly encourage u to try hobonichi if youre thinking about it! i had the same reservations about not being able to keep up w a daily planner, but even if u miss a day i find it fun to just go back and add doodles, or even leave a few of them blank. its been super rewarding to try to keep up w it over the last few years ^^
happy journaling! :)
WAOH ty im flattered u read my tags ehehe... i thinks i will be doing it cus its just so cute and fun looking!
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daughter-of-inklings · 5 months
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More NaNoWriMo excerpts because ya girl is having a Time™️ being a fantasy protagonist:
Her eyes fell on the last lines written organically after the kidnapping– A never-ending winter has set in, overtaking the kingdom. With heavy hearts, the people will endure.  The kingdom had been in a never-ending snowstorm for the last 22 years, and without quite knowing what compelled her hand to do so, Rosely flipped to the last blank page in the book. Almost mindlessly, she ran a hand over the paper, willing the words from her mind into existence. It didn’t matter that this wasn’t her book, the letters and words obeyed all the same, filling in with her own flavor of handwriting— half cursive-half print, rather small and slanted to the right.  And after decades of endless winter, the kingdom experienced its first spring. The snow melted away to flowers, and all manners of animals returned to the forests. Life returned to normal, with the cold as nothing more than a distant memory.  She held the book to the light suspended above her head, admiring her work. They carved themselves into the paper, glowing for a brief moment before cementing themselves onto the page. The joy of it was short lived as a dull sensation began in her left eye. It began at the very center of her eyeball, stretching along it in pricks and lashes, as if someone were cutting precise cuts along the membrane with a scalpel. The book dropped from her hand as she clasped it over her eye, drawing away with blood. It dripped down her cheek and down the side of her neck, staining the white of the nightgown. And as the letters carved themselves into the book, each settling onto the page until the glow was gone from them, something carved itself inside her eye– a cut for every letter that she’d written, making a shape of something inside her eye. She stumbled to the glass case and, blinking through the blood, squinted and winced and poked at her eye, holding it open. Watching in horror as the intricate petals of a rose carved themselves into her iris, the pupil of her eye as the center. 
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catwouthats · 7 months
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Sometimes I just hold my copy of Neverwhere to my chest and I finally feel home.
Somewhere between life, somewhere between death. Somewhere between the shadows and the spotlight. Somewhere between getting better and being worse. Somewhere I don’t have to pretend it all is something else. Somewhere I’m not the only one in pain. Neverwhere.
The jewels of Neverwhere fall out of the pages and I hold them close. I can smell the cities of the underside when I have my nose in the book. I can drag out the images to life and cry on something’s shoulder. A nobody, like me. A nobody’s shoulder from Neverwhere.
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anoctoberpepper · 16 days
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I loved the teen talk this week for so many reasons, but Beth May getting a concussion, smoking weed, ending up in the hospital, and crying about never being good at her job again, was the most relatable thing.
Her success despite being a mess gives me such hope. I too am a god damn mess with a successful career somehow. Nice to know we can do both. Cry and keep going.
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rpfisfine · 1 month
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14 year old me would be going nuts from the beatles yaoi renaissance thats currently happening on this site
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rustbeltjessie · 1 year
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A new notebook for a new poetry project.
As mentioned a few posts prior to this one, I save everything. But I downright hoard notebooks/sketchbooks/journals. (Truly, if I were a dragon, I would be a dragon with a notebook hoard.) People gift them to me a lot; also, when I have extra $$ and see a pretty notebook or sketchbook, I buy it. That way, I always have a large stack (hoard) of unused blank books, and whenever I need one for a new project, I have many to choose from.
(May 1, 2023)
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kustavglimt · 2 months
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finished this collection of essays by Soetsu Yanagi today and i recommend it a lot if you’re interested in traditional japanese art:) it made me appreciate common folk crafts a lot more
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