IF YOUR HANDS NEED TO BREAK MORE THAN TRINKETS ON YOUR ROOM
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thinking about posting my fanfiction to this blog
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thank god i chose cinema and not english as my major
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the amount of times i handed in an essay 20 minutes before the deadline and still got an 90+ is well more than i deserved, honestly
writing a garbage essay feels like you’re the cow who gave birth to the two headed calf. in the morning, my professor will wrap him in newspaper and dissect him on a cold operating table. but here he is alive, under the pale glow of my computer screen. he is beautiful. there are twice as many logical fallacies as usual.
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the three pillars of writing when english is not your first language
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Why do we have hands? A helpful guide.
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the mortifying ordeal of being known and perceived
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need to hyperfixate on something new
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