Hey hey You guys!
I'm Minoriin ;) welcome to my strange world. The door is open and you'll always have the key (use it anytime you want). Hope you like the Journey ♡
-> Your key to my anime tastes: https://myanimelist.net/profile/Minoriin3
(You're welcome☆)
Same Wattpad name ☺
Ogni tanto aggiorno questa caterva di spazzatura e lo so che non interessa a nessuno -probabilmente neanche a me, non tantissimo almeno-, ma prendetelo come un incoraggiamento a continuare le cose che avete iniziato o almeno a mettere per iscritto i vostri sentimenti perché serve. È liberatorio
Ecco qui
In English
Sometimes I feel like updating this pile of mine b*lls*it, and I know that nobody cares -maybe even I don't care, not that much at least- BUT take that as an encouragement to keep doing what you've started. Or, at least, to write your own feelings 'cause it's useful. It's like freeing yourself.
So, yeah, here it is:
" Just a bunch of (mine) bullshit " by Minoriin3 on Wattpad https://www.wattpad.com/story/116948852?utm_source=android&utm_medium=com.tumblr&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details_button&wp_uname=Minoriin3&wp_originator=jgO09%2BeDspiahWfSurF%2BqcsiNTh9fRJmOzB4BCZu33tYXWd8eIaNbDZUDnBtEv6L%2Bz9ubaAwz6nHUB8wF7vdhQ1xqPDmLFK18CJnJiOU8Tqeta0362ar9P7CEmHkyGOx
“There will not be a magic day when we wake up and it’s now okay to express ourselves publicly. We make that day by doing things publicly until it’s simply the way things are.” –Tammy Baldwin
"Diventare. Era un verbo che mi aveva sempre ossessionata, ma me ne accorsi per la prima volta solo in quella circostanza. Io volevo diventare, anche se non avevo mai saputo cosa. Ed ero diventata, questo era certo, ma senza un oggetto, senza una vera passione, senza un'ambizione determinata. Ero voluta diventare qualcosa - ecco il punto - solo perchè temevo che Lila diventasse chissà chi e io restassi indietro. Il mio diventare era diventare entro la sua scia. Dovevo ricominciare a diventare, ma per me, da adulta, senza di lei"
The plebs were us. The plebs were that fight for food and wine, that quarrel over who should be served first and better, that dirty floor on which the waiters clattered back and forth, those increasingly vulgar toasts. The plebs were my mother, who had drunk wine and now was leaning against my father’s shoulder, while he, serious, laughed, his mouth gaping, at the sexual allusions of the metal dealer. They were all laughing, even Lila, with the expression of one who has a role and will play it to the utmost.
And my skin, too, was spoiled: on my forehead, my chin, and around my jaws, archipelagos of reddish swelling multiplied, then turned purple, finally developed yellowish tips.
- My Brilliant Friend, Elena Ferrante
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