Conventional
Conventional
Conventional. One word, and so many restraints. One word, that like it’s meaning, changes with every person, every story, every scene. And therein lies the paradox of its meaning, unchanging, static, traditional. Something that confirms to the norms. Whose norms you ask? Yours. Mine. The stranger’s, who asked you the directions to the station. So you see, an ever-changing, dynamic thought, that…
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The kind of quality content I come to this website for. 😌
I think I’m using this right
Hey guys, this is a little bit difficult to type for many reasons but I’ll try! As some of you know I was accepted to do a law course in the UK, unfortunately I do not have the money to go. Since getting my acceptance letter I have emailed the university, looked for loans, support, anything that might allow me to go and have failed.
This is an amazing chance for someone in my situation. I live in a third world country where the minimum wage is 4 dollars a day and it would mean everything if I could have the chance to do this course.
That is why after a lot of deliberation and swallowing my pride, with the support of @supervxllains I’ve decided to take this chance and turn to the kindness of strangers and friends.
If you can’t donate that is more than understandable, things are hard but if you can and don’t mind, please please help spread this because someone who could might see it.
My youcaring is here!!! BONUS PHOTO OF THE ELDRITCH GOURMAND THERE FOR ALL TO SEE.
Gifts
When I was ten years old and too young to know, my mother gave me a gift. It was wrapped with honesty, tied with a ribbon, old style. When I took off the cover, I was most surprised to find underneath, a smile. She said, keep it with you always, and when the world seems dull, this will be your saving grace. When I was fifteen and struggling with puberty, my mother gave me a gift. It was wrapped…
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Never has anything else summed up my life so well.
Sensitivity Feeling liable to be offended or hurt ‘Be a little more sensitive please’ The world asks us to fold our rough edges, use sandpaper on the splinters that have formed from being broken again and again.