#i swear i articulate better during my exams

[haticesultanas]

Fasten your seat belts because this is gonna be a wild ride™:

Selim II: everyone hates him, blames him for the decadence of the Ottoman empire, but it wasn't that simple. Also yes he made bad decisions but his father's bad decisions were blamed on his Grand viziers, whereas Selim II's bad decisions were blamed on him. Double standard much? Yes. Basically, I love him because everyone else hates him. It's spite, yes. Also, he was weirdly domestic? Like, he's always talked about for his debauchery but one of his favourite past times was play chess with his former nanny like how sweet is that???

Giacomo Leopardi: my favourite Italian poet of all time you have no idea how much I relate to his poems and to his life. He's usually just dismissed as just "sad" and "depressed" but his works are in fact so beautiful. I don't know how good the English translations are but if you could read some of them it'd be great. La Ginestra for example is a masterpiece imo

Murad V: another man with such a tragic life I can't help but loving him. He was accused of insanity and removed to the throne but in fact he had (most probably) depression and alcohol problems. He loved his children dearly and had such a sweet wit. He suffered like hell and didn't deserve the life he had... not even his funeral. It was done secretly and at some point someone opened his basked to show everybody that it was truly him. Such disrespect

Murad IV: totally different from his descendant LOL. He was authoritarian, strict, arrogant; he kind of reminds me of Peter the Great. What I find interesting about him is that he had a public persona (strict, merciless, bloody) and a completely different private persona, where he would have fun with his favourites and would also accept jokes made at his expense. He's a very interesting man imo

Lucius Sergius Catilina: okay this man was SLANDERED. HE. WAS. Everything we know about his conspiracy comes from Cicero who hated his guts and his Orationes in Catilinam were touched upon during the time to make them more beautiful and to slander Catilina more. For example, he says that Catilina was a parvenu but he wasn't, he was part of the aristocracy. His whole argument rests on the fact that Catilina is supposed to hate his own class — and this is how he turns the Senate against him — but that's not true. In this house we're Catilina defenders first and Cicero haters second.

Gustav II Adolf of Sweden: A. LEGEND. The Lion of the North. SUCH. A. LEGEND. he almost won the Thirty Years' War against the Habsburg empire ALONE. He even won his last battle but unfortunately died fighting. Also he was Christina of Sweden's dad I mean legends fathering legends.

Frederick V: another legend. HE DESERVED TO KEEP THE KINGSHIP OF BOEMIA OK? I totally supported him against the Holy Roman Empire. Though the reason why I love him is because he loved his wife TO DEATH. I just love him so much. Finally a good husband.

Dante Alighieri: I mean, could I leave him out? absolutely not. The greatest (Italian) poet of all time, he created the Italian language and gave the world the greatest masterpiece, the Divina Commedia. Do not trust anyone who says that he copied someone Martin Luther (h o w ??) or that the Commedia is just fanfiction ?? or that he was disgusting for loving a woman he met once. First of all, no, he didn't meet her once. They knew each other; once Beatrice stopped saying hello to him because he seemed to have fallen in love with another woman. Secondly, his love for Beatrice was pure. It was not carnal, it was almost holy. Beatrice was the means through which Dante could get closer to God. I mean??? No other man could beat this. Thirdly, the Commedia is written in honour of Beatrice who had died young?? Imagine someone dedicating the greatest literary work of all times to you. No other man could ever.

Prince Ahmed Kemaleddin: oh man, another legend. A little background or you don't understand just how legendary he is: Ahmed Kemaleddin was the younger brother of Murad V (above) and Abdülhamid II. Now, Abdülhamid is not nice or fun at all; once, Ahmed Kemaleddin had asked him for money and he replied that he wasn't a Jew (!!). Prince Ahmed never forgot just how condescending he was treated so when Murad V was deposed in favour of Abdülhamid II, he organised a (failed, unfortunately) coup together with his even younger brother Süleyman and his sisters Fatma and Seniha. As you can see, nobody liked Abdülhamid in the family lmao— I mean, they had taste.

Pope Gregory VII: oh man. He's so mean. I have a thing for mean popes lol, in the middle ages they were so fun. So basically Gregory VII was a monk that during a papal election led an army of Norman knights to keep the aristocracy out (at the time the Roman aristocracy basically decided who the next pope would be). When he became pope himself, Gregory VII became famous for his role in the Investiture controversy and because of the Dictatus Papae, a document which states that the pope is the highest authority on Earth (yes, above the emperor too) and that he's vicar of Christ and not of Peter. If I remember correctly, the Dictatus Papae also states that everyone — including the emperor — should kiss the pope's shoe. Like, amazing. He was so /nice/ he basically fought with everyone: emperor (Henry IV), cardinals, other lords. Everyone. I just love him so much what a legend.

[selfwriting-sugarquills]

Something more infinite (George Weasley x reader) ch. 5

Chapter 5. Can we make an alliance, please? 

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

word count: 1.4K

warnings: light swearing. 

You were dying. Not literally but it sure felt like it. Your seventh year was supposed to be full of parties, trips to Hogsmeade, a little studying and a lot of anxiety about the N.E.W.T’s but so far, thanks to a miss Dolores Jane Umbridge, you’d only been able to enjoy the last two on that list, and you were so done. Not only was your last year at Hogwarts difficult from an academic point of view, but with the parties and practical jokes gone it was also boring, which was almost worse. You’d tried to escape Umbridge’s reign by shutting yourself  in the library, determined to ace your exams even if you were going to die of boredom trying. It was much better than getting in trouble and having your hand scratched to pieces by that bloody quill anyways. Fred and George had seemed to take an opposite stance. They’d taken every setback as a challenge to see just how much chaos they could create, no matter the punishment. Now that they’d been booted from the quidditch team, their only outlet for their frustrations were pranks and their product testing. Weirdly, George had not been bugging you. He’d noticed you were hiding out in the library and, you assumed, that he’d taken it as a sign of defeat from you. Generally, George had been acting strange since the yule ball. After you’d calmed down, you’d thought over the words exchanged between the two of you. You’d thought about how, in your fury and sadness, you’d not even stopped to take in what George had said. And more importantly; how he’d said it. 

You look really beautiful tonight. 

The way he’d said it. You thought about it constantly because you just couldn’t peg the emotion behind it. It wasn’t the same, slightly snarky and sarcastic tone. The intonation had been so un-playful, so downright and...honest. But it couldn't be. To think that George Weasley could have sincerity enough to compliment you would be insane. He wouldn't’. But he had. He did compliment you, and you had been too far gone to even take notice of it. After he’d said it, there had seemed to be a shift of air between you, at least from his side. He’d become much more quiet around you, and his interferences with your business had become scarce, with almost none of his old self shining through. And you didn’t know how to deal with it, which was another reason to stay in the library and common room, it was easier to stay by yourself, where you didn’t have to confront the weird behaviour from George, which had (in the few times you two had talked alone that year) resulted in you becoming even more frustrated with him now that he’d stopped playing into the feud that you fully intended on keeping going, or deal with Umbridge’s bullshit, for that matter. So here you were, deeply invested in a charms essay, reading up on the potential dangers of mispronunciation of incantations and the reversion of unsuccessful spells. That was until a person pulled out a chair in front of you and sat down, a pair of elbows setting themselves down on the table top. 

“Hello,” He drew out the word, “What’re you up to?” 

“Busy,” you replied, which was true, the essay was due two days from now, and you had yet to begin on the essay for potions which was due the day after that, 

“Busy doing what?” He asked, his tone unchanged, 

“Reading,” you said, hoping the way you said it translated to go away, 

“Reading what?” he continued, 

You sighed heavily, “Alright, out with it,” you say, and without looking up from your book, you can hear him sitting back in his chair, “What do you want, Weasley?” you add, hating how good you’d gotten at sensing his smugness, 

“I’m here,” he says, as if he’s presenting you with the most exclusive opportunity of your life, “to propose an alliance,” his voice is lowered, his tall frame leaned in over the table, his whole demeanor as if he’d relied information of the highest confidentiality, you weren’t going to play along nicely just because he’d decided he was bored enough to give you his time, 

“Abso-fucking-lutely not,” you articulate, 

“Please, Y/n, I know you can’t stand her either!”  George beckons, his hands gesticulating in front of him, 

“You know what I can’t stand, George?” You snap the book closed and silently revel in the way he tenses up, only showing his start by a bit of excessive blinking, “-that we’ve been going at each other’s throats for five bloody years and somehow, despite all my attempts, you’re still here refusing to fuck off,” you voice raises into a whispered shouting promptly earning a stern shushing from Madam Pince, 

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” he says, “If the toad keeps going the way she is you can expect me to be out of your hair sooner than expected,” he looks out the window, his eyes just getting misty with thought, before he turns back to you with a shit-eating grin, “as much as the thought of not being able to annoy you bugs me,” he winks at you and you, in turn, make a nauseated grimace as something turns in your stomach. 

“Well, if you change your mind about that alliance, you’ll know where to find us, who knows, perhaps if we worked together, we’d be able to take her down,” he says, before knocking on the table once, rising from his seat and leaving. You try to return to your book with a stern “I seriously doubt it,” muttered to yourself while you find the page you left but even as your eyes begin to scan the words your brain can only focus on what George meant by getting out of your hair sooner than you expected. Was he planning on leaving? you’d never even thought of Hogwarts without that shit-eating grin following you around, ruining your every plan and good day. You just wished you could explain why the thought filled you with a strange empty feeling in the pit of your stomach. Over the next few days you think more about a life at Hogwarts without George, and what that would mean for you. You decide, as much as you hate to admit it, that you would rather give in and make an alliance with George than go the rest of the year without him at all. It’s not that you like him, no you couldn’t like George Weasley like that but you still don’t want to see him go just yet. 

“I accept your offer,” You find him coming in through the main entrance after a Herbology class, his hair is matted down and sticking to his face, wet from the heavy rain that showers the grounds outside, he looks confused, 

“Your alliance, Weasley,” you say, rolling your eyes, “I’m saying I want in,” you look at your feet, “even though it kills me a little to admit it,” you mumble. 

Silence. Except for the sound of wet shoes on cobblestone as students come filing in from lessons outside, a group of fourth years laugh at their collective disheveled state but George doesn’t speak. You look up and to your surprise he looks disappointed. 

“What?” You ask, genuinely interested, this was a good thing? you were giving him what he loved the most; the upperhand, so why was he looking like you’d just snapped his wand in half? 

“Well I was hoping you would,” he trails off, biting his lip, your eyes dance over his face, which is difficult to read, he looks like he’s about to say different things at once before settling on, “It’s just that we’re leaving this friday, during the exams,” he says, and now you’re also disappointed. You fight not to show it as you nod and let out a small “oh, right,” 

“But I appreciate your willingness to cooperate,” he says, a smile playing on his lips, but it’s not as cheerful as it usually is, the corners of his mouth tugged downwards by a sadness that you can both feel but can’t explain. 

“Once the shop’s finished, you better come see me,” he says, beginning to walk away, he turns around, facing you as he walks up the first steps on the stairs in the entrance hall, “who knows? maybe we can find another thing to collaborate on?” and he smirks. That’s the last time you see that very smirk at Hogwarts and you feel more hollow than ever as you graduate.

taglist: @schlongbottom​ @cardboardbenmazzello​ @unseensilver​ @mochamiilk Let me know if you want to be added :))  

[psycho-slytherin]

Arcade

You’ll do anything to score higher on your test than him.

Based on this prompt for @bunnyface101! Happy birthday <3

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Fluff, enemies to lovers

Warnings: Swearing, lots of anatomy terms, too much dialogue

WC: 2.2k

|mlist| ~ |birthday fics|

“Ugh!”

“What is it this time?” Yeonjun asks as you stomp into the house, slam the door behind you and flop dramatically on the couch.

“Fucking Kim Namjoon again with his bitchass smart mouth. Ugh!”

“This seems to be a weekly thing,” your brother remarks. “You coming in complaining about that guy.”

“I don’t care– I wouldn’t complain so much if he weren’t so hellbent on bothering me! He can just fuck all the way off,” you snarl.

“Aw, did he score better than you on a test again? Is that what happened?”

Your cheeks burn. “Shut up! He didn’t. He cheated.”

“Any proof of that, or…?”

“Who the fuck gets a perfect score on an anatomy exam like that?” You rise and begin to pace, agitated. “There were two hundred terms to memorize– I’ve studied for hours every night for weeks and he barely studied at all. And you know what, Yeonjun? After all that, I ran out of time and only got a stupid fucking 98%.”

“Woah, congrats!”

“–And not only did he get a perfect score, he decided to rub it in my face.”

“Literally?”

“What? No. He looked at my paper and he was all like, ‘Aw, that’s cute.’ And then he really went and invited his friends to the arcade! I don’t even have time to go to the arcade ‘cause I’m too busy studying! He called my score cute, goddammit!”

“Have you talked to the teacher about him? That does seem pretty mean.”

You sigh, scooping your textbook off the coffee table. “Don’t get me wrong– I’d love to get him in trouble, but he’s gonna make fun of me for being a teachers’ pet if I report it. I need to score better than him; it’s the only way I can shut him up.”

“Well isn’t that very High School Musical of you. Be my guest,” Yeonjun yawns. “Have fun not having a life.”

“I will,” you harrumph, stalking to your room. You’re going to outscore Kim Namjoon, no matter what.

~~~One Week Later~~~

“Cribriform plate houses olfactory nerves…” you mutter, flipping through your flashcards as you pace the living room. “Nasal bones consist of the vomer, inferior nasal conchae, and perpendicular plate of the ethmoid. The styloid process articulates with the ligaments that hold the hyoid bone. The foramen magnum articulates with the atlas, or C-1.”

“English, please?” Yeonjun says, raising a brow.

“In other words… I’m going to get a perfect score on next week’s test,” you inform him smugly, before getting back to your notes. “The sutures are coronal, squamosal, lambdoidal, and sagittal. There are seven cervical vertebrae, twelve thoracic, and five lumbar. The sacrum–”

“Okay! Enough already!” Yeonjun claps his hands. “Y/n, you’ve been like this for days. I think maybe you should take a breath and sit down.”

“I didn’t allocate time in my schedule for that,” you huff.

“No more scheduling, y/n. You’re driving me crazy!”

“I need to beat Namjoon’s score, okay?”

“Then maybe follow his lead and take a break.”

You pause. “What?”

“He’s scoring better than you because his mind has a chance to rest, y/n. Now, go to the arcade– and don’t bring your flashcards.”

“But… but…”

Yeonjun sighs and pulls you, still sputtering, to the car. “Come on, I’ll drive you.”

Ten minutes later, you’re at an arcade. You’ve never actually been to one before– you’ve only read about them. Your big brother gives you fifty dollars, instructs you to have fun, and then leaves. You’re alone.

But what do you do now? Well, for one, you can access your study guide on your phone. You find a seat in a corner next to an ancient Pac-Man machine and begin rereading your notes.

“The sacrum is made up of three to five vertebrae,” you mutter to yourself, closing your eyes. “The six bones that make up the orbits are the maxilla, ethmoid, sphenoid, frontal, and... uh...” Shit, what are the last two? Your pride won’t let you check your notes– you have to know them. “Um...”

“Lacrimal and zygomatic.” The voice sends dread to the pit of your stomach.

“Gah!” you scramble to your feet and glare at– who else?– Kim Namjoon.

“What do you want?” you ask, glaring at him.

Namjoon rolls his eyes. “I want to play Pac-Man and not have to listen to some poor girl flounder her way through the axial skeleton.”

“I wasn’t floundering,” you huff. “You caught me at a bad time!”

“Any time seems to be a bad time for you,” Namjoon replies icily. “What are you even doing here?”

“I...wanted to come,” you mutter, avoiding his eyes.

Namjoon snorts. “Yeah, right. That’s why you’re holed up like a nerdy fuckin’ hobbit. And, just to drive the point home, you’re studying.”

“Well, what else am I gonna do?” you hiss. “It’s not like I know how to play any of these dumb games that you’re so obsessed with!”

Running a hand through his hair, Namjoon raises an eyebrow. “You don’t know how to play Pac-Man?”

“No, sorry– I’ve been spending my time productively, unlike someone.” Can you go away now, is what you want to say, but then he’ll bother you more and ugh.

One thing’s for sure: You’re going to tear Yeonjun a new one when you get home.

Namjoon leans back. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Get up. I’m gonna teach you how to play Pac-Man.”

You laugh. “Very funny.”

“I’m totally serious.”

“Why would you do that? Are you trying to keep me from studying?” Your eyes narrow. “Trying to sabotage me?”

“If I wanted to sabotage you, I’d just leave you to your own devices,” Namjoon says lightly. “I’m trying to help you– I’ve got nothing better to do, and it really is pathetic watching you struggle. Besides, why would I sabotage you? I’m still beating you in anatomy.”

Yeonjun’s words come to mind: “He’s  scoring better than you because his mind has a chance to rest, y/n.”

You flip Namjoon off before getting up and dusting yourself off. “Fine.” If this is what it takes to beat him during your next exam, then you’ll do it. “Enlighten me.”

“It’s an easy game– you just have to think fast, and work out a strategy ahead of time. First, where are your game tokens?”

“Uh... what?”

Namjoon sighs. “Do you have any money?” He asks slowly, as though speaking to a child.

“Yeah, a fifty.”

Your rival’s eyebrows raise. “You planning on spending the whole weekend here?”

“I was planning on going home to study,” you retort.

“Whatever. Go exchange the money for game tokens. After Pac-Man you should play the racing game– I have a feeling you’ll love it.”

You sniff at his bemused tone before following his direction to a token machine. The clinking sound of dozens of coins falling is music to your ears as you feed the machine your bills, and you don’t know why, but you suddenly feel energetic.

Namjoon snickers as you return with your pockets heavy with tokens. “Admit it, this is more fun than studying.”

“We’ll see about that.” You’re only doing this to glean his perfect-score secrets anyways.

“Now watch.” Namjoon feeds tokens to the machine and the screen lights up with little dots and retro beeping music.

“Aww, a ghost!” You lean in as Namjoon navigates his little yellow circle guy around the labyrinth. “Look, there’s more! Can you pet them?”

“They’re trying to kill me, y/n.”

You droop. “Oh.”

“But now...” You watch as Pac-Man gobbles a large dot and the ghosts begin flashing blue. “Now I kill them.”

“How do you win?”

“Imagine each of those little dots is a question on an exam– and eating them is getting them right.”

You laugh. “So eat them all– I get the idea.”

“Yes!” Namjoon thrusts a fist in the air when he completes the level. “C’mon, now you.”

“What?” You shrink back.

“It’s just like taking a test, y/n.”

“No it’s not! I haven’t studied!”

“Hey,” Namjoon catches your eye. “Some things are just instinct.”

Something in his voice sends a shiver down your spine. “Okay...” cautiously you reach for the joystick as the next level begins.

You navigate rapidly, guiding Pac-Man across the screen. “They’re moving too quickly!” you yelp as you narrowly avoid the red ghost.

“So think ahead– what’s the most efficient route you can take?”

“Uh... that one!”

“Well, don’t just tell me. Go for it!”

You move to direct Pac-Man down a path filled with little dots but before you can, that fucking red ghost gets too close and...

Game Over.

“Fuck!” you slam your fist against the machine before recoiling in pain. “Ow!”

“Can I ask you something?” Namjoon says, and you turn around to glare at him suspiciously.

“What?”

“Did you run out of time on our last anatomy test?”

You flinch. “No.” Yes.

Namjoon chuckles. “You’re a bad liar. C’mon, that racing game is calling your name.”

You follow him across the loud arcade– it’s colorful, brightly lit, and filled with people that look several years younger than you.

“Do you come here often?” You ask once you join him beside two motorcycle-looking seats in front of a screen.

“You know that sounds like a pick-up line, right?”

“Huh? No! I just... I didn’t...”

Namjoon laughs. “Relax, nerd. I’m teasing.”

“Are you physically capable of doing anything else?” You reply, cheeks burning.

“Hmm...” he pretends to think. “Does beating you in anatomy count?”

You’re going to strangle him.

“Now come on, get on.” Namjoon gestures at one seat before sliding onto the other and feeding four coins into the slot.

“Good thing I didn’t wear a skirt today,” you murmur to yourself as you settle onto your “motorcycle”.

“Don’t worry, y/n,” Namjoon says. “No one would look at you anyways.”

You turn so quickly you almost get whiplash. “What did you say, asshole?”

“I said, watch the screen.” You turn and see several options for customizing your motorbike. Should you go for speed, agility, or durability?

Well, speed means nothing if you can’t even turn a corner. Your choices prioritize agility and before long the screen displays a scantily-clad woman holding a flag and counting down. Namjoon revs his bike.

“Wait a sec, how do I win?” you ask.

“Just go!” Your rival’s bike zooms ahead of yours and you sigh– if this were real, he’d be dead already. You follow his lead and twist the acceleration, careful to accurately make hairpin turns and gravity-defying jumps. Namjoon crashes several times but makes up for it with his speed, and soon the two of you are neck and neck.

Just a little more... you have to beat him... just a little more...

Suddenly you come across a fork in the path and you slow down a bit to decide which way is best. Namjoon forgoes a decision entirely and crashes right through the middle, using his speed to propel him through whatever the green pixels were supposed to be.

“That’s not how you’re supposed to do it!” you protest as you take the left fork.

“Whatever you say, y/n. But I’m winning. Aaaaand... I’ve won.”

He has, and you cruise to a digital stop mere seconds after him.

“You absolute fuckwad!” You cry, fuming as you stomp over to him. “You cheated, you bitchass motherfucking son of a–”

“Child.”

“What?”

“There is a child behind you,” Namjoon says. “And he’s staring.”

You turn around and notice that there is indeed a child staring at you, his mouth hanging open.

“Great. Aaaand I’m leaving.” What are you doing? You’re done being humiliated– you’re considering fighting Yeonjun to the death, and if you don’t ace your exam it’s going to be his and Namjoon’s heads on the line.

Your brother was wrong. Taking a break hasn’t done anything except stress you out. “Keep the rest of the tokens, Namjoon. I won’t be needing them.” Sure, it was fun and exhilarating, but what a waste of time. It was all to sabotage you, you just know it.

“Wait– wait! y/n!”

You roll your eyes. “What? Gonna call me dumb? Pathetic? Do my clothes look weird? Is there something on my face? I don’t care, Namjoon, just stay the fuck away from me.”

“I...” Namjoon stops. “I was gonna say good luck. On the test.”

“Oh. Wait, what? Why are you wishing me luck?”

He smiles. “Trust your instincts a bit more, y/n. It’ll give you an edge on the multiple-choice questions. And, uh... I’m glad I saw you here. It was cool.”

Your cheeks warm at his words. Oh, no. No. No no no no. You are not catching feelings for Kim Namjoon. Literally anyone else but him–

“Do you want to study together?” you blurt out thoughtlessly before slapping a hand over your mouth.

Namjoon blinks slowly. “Huh?”

“I mean, I just meant, you’re the top scorer in the class, and it’s not like I need your help given that I’m proficient enough on my own but there’s always room for improvement right?” you explain in one breath.

“Right,” Namjoon says. “Always room for improvement. Yeah, good idea. I’ll, uh, text you?”

“You don’t have my number,” you say.

“Maybe you could fix that,” Namjoon replies with an uncharacteristic softness before you exchange numbers.

“I’ll see you around, Namjoon?”

“Yeah, see you around.”

“I still hate you though.”

“And I’m still beating you in anatomy.”

[brokenhayatim]

exhale

idk how long this is gonna be but it goes a little something like this. you ever been so afraid of failing that you just procrastinate and avoid for so long? each day you tell yourself you’ll finally suck it up and push through but the fear and anxiety are almost so paralyzing you don’t even wanna go near the task.

i’s just been months..like maybe even five at this rate. i tell myself to start the clock the day i graduated but i know the truth. the last year-ish was my idkwhatimdoingwithmylifeohmygod era and i just thought i passed it with a bit more advice and options. but it’s like it was all almost pretty bubbles and they just popped so long ago that i’m lost and confused and afraid and nervous and all of that is so ridiculous, it embarrasses me. i’m not really that lazy but i say it to try and explain alot, i think. or i say that i’m just relaxing or something, when i know everyday my thoughts are always on this same thing and never being good enough to get through the rut. it wasnt till i was on a walk, voice memo-ing a friend and the anxiety just peeked through a bit and i was hearing my own thoughts aloud like ....thats true? and i’m told to not be afraid and to just let whatever happens happen if it’s best for me and i know that but i also dont?

everyday i constantly think about deleting every single social media app i’m on bc i feel this heavy weight of uselessness and incompetence. why couldn’t i have learned things like this person or been more out there like that person?what’s wrong with me? and i begin to rationalize it with my childhood and how i was raised and it never is fulfilling. it’s constantly not enough, nothing about me is. i’m not creative at all and what i can do, so many can do better and so why would anyone actually pick me? even the things and issues i’m passionate about, what do i really know? even my knowledge seems so below average and it’s confusing and stressful. i feel like if someone asked me a question about anything right now that i’ve just forgotten everything important and couldn’t even articulate a proper response. and i wanted to be an activist??? since i have to interview for jobs online now bc the pandemic it’s made me so nervous. i feel most in my element during in person interviews and i say that as someone that’s also awkward and nervous in the room. but i’m more anxious of the constant string of rejections i know i’m gonna receive now bc i can barely speak english and there’s nothing special about me at all. at least in person, i can smile and make it less weird. and i connect so much better that way, which loosens me up .000009% more. it’s really babyish i guess bc everyone is adjusting and i’m just not. and i thought i was with everything but i guess i really wasnt. and coming home everytime makes me fall back into this person i dont like ad i get so sluggish (my sister says its the trauma) and i dont know bc one day she’s waking up in florida and being a good semi productive human and the next she’s back in new york and its many low days and nerves. honestly the way this house sucks the life out of me, i dont even think i’d be good at any remote job. it’s kinda the reason half my brain is pushing the dead part bc i want to leave. be more self-sufficient and alone again. but where and how, you know? obvs im gonna need a job for that. it’s just this domino effect and i’m scared to push the first one and it’s annoying and i hate it goddaammit.  the moment i came home, i just have always felt unworthy and other to my family. like they don;t care, like they’re not proud, like i’ve done nothing these past years and that’s my fault for not being an open book like the rest.

i’m gonna have to edit this bc i will not remember 87 months worth of pandemic thoughts into this post right now but. i tell myself i came home and decided to take a break for a bit, or focused on my health and appointments, but really..i dont know. i think i say it to justify all these hollow days of disappointment, which it never does. i’m afraid to ask for help or even a nice job recommendation from my last employer bc all i can think about is that it’s been months and what have i been doing this whole time? and i think they’ll ask that or think ??? now ??? and i get in my head. i know its not illogical and the worst anyone can say is no and yada yada but ugh this is why i hate my mind and just overthinking ... or not thinking?? who knows. i’m constantly letting myself down but .., i dont want anyone to know that. does that make sense. maybe i have this need to be superficial and make my life seem so nice and good and right bc i never see myself as that and i worry of people’s opinions and crave affirmations. 

the first appt i had coming home was my neurosurgeon one and my dad and him sort of just had this rushed timeline in their heads of how i would go into the ER one day soon and bam its done. i didnt wanna think about that so i tried to focus on my job stuff .. then got stressed so i just started scheduling the appointments i needed. then stopped and did more work stuff. then the secretary called me like ???? u havent done these exams yet and i was like yeah uhhh. bc when i do them it’s one step closer to doing the surgery and i know i want the surgery i’m just getting in my head again and don’t want it to be now. my sister told me to make sure i let her know when i choose a date and i was like mhm i wanna finish the job stuff and get my life sorted first and she was just ???? what ?? this is clearly more important. but here’s the kicker. i went on a walk the other day and just cried coming to terms with it all bc honestly i still dream of not making it out alive and a part of me thinks, at least if i did this one thing right and found a job and all that, that it would okay what happens next. like at least i was successful in that one thing. i think about how unworthy and unproud i am of myself and for months now, just felt like this would be a beautifully cowardice way out. and i think about the after, and cant even imagine strong devastation and sorrow. is that strange? like i expect everyone to just go on. bc i’m a simple buffer with no real purpose left. i walk and think about dreams and hopes and what i would miss and just one thing that make me call this entire fantasy completely insane and i just draw blank. so i cry because, of course. this fantasy isn’t new either, since last year i’ve been speaking to my therapist and writing about it. we would speak of suicide and i always respond like that’s a huge no bc of my religion but i say, i think about if something went wrong and that was it, how i want it to be like that. take the pressure, take the blame, take it all off me in a way. and some days i’m scared that i’ll wake up in the hospital bed after and be in pain and coddled and annoyed by the attention i’m only getting bc of that pain. and i dont want you to be here just because of the pain but i feel like you’re here only because of that. that you came, that you’re seeing me, that you care only because of it. so what am i without it? just back to nothing? the headaches were lonely but i feel less lonely with this diagnosis, like i have something good about me, worthy about me. something that makes me important to someone, even if it’s the neurologist that wants my money. to be real, i dont even think i care about the pain leaving as much as the fact that i can’t label myself as this person with chronic pain. like even if i was cured and oo lala all better, a part of me would still want to have this neuro condition. like ?? i was thinking: imagine beating cancer and feeling better but wanting to say .. and then realized the key difference. with that you survive, you are survivor. even if it’s gone that who you are. when this leaves me, i’m nothing and i’ll just go back to being nothing. no one says u survived brain surgery or survived a brain condition. it’s just done and forgotten. there’s nothing exciting about my life other than my mri visits i swear. i decided to do the surgery bc it would be stupid of me not to, and i’m still holding back, still unsure of even a set month. i just know i didnt want to follow covid rules of 1 visitor bc i know it would be one of my parents and i would jump out the window myself. but covid isnt rlly going away so is that the best excuse i have? i havent thought past these appointments and its almost like im doing it all for the wrong reasons, like enjoying it rather than wanting it to help me. i dont know.

unrelated but a song that always makes me cry and is actually the song i was listening to when i had that panic attack on the plane: finally by james arthur around 2:30. always brings out the hollowness in me hm.

**** i’m coming back to this but i got all my plaguing thoughts outish so

[jouissezduprintemps]

Something to Prove, Chapter Four: Gossip

Rating: T Warnings: Swearing Words: 3014 Fandom: Naruto Summary: As Suna prepares for its first independently-held chunin exam since Gaara became kazekage, the sand siblings must make sure that everything goes off without a hitch.

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Hinata gently shifted the bag of ice she held against Naruto’s face, hesitating when he hissed through his teeth. He’d gone for help from Lady Tsunade, but he was swiftly turned away. He wouldn’t say why, and that didn’t sit well with her. The fifth hokage was a healer; his injuries were mild and shouldn’t have been a problem for her. “Stay still,” she cautioned, moving the ice nearer to his nose. Her worry was getting the best of her, and she only wanted to help. Her concern took over her usual embarrassment.

“Yeah, yeah.” Naruto grumbled, but he did as he was told. Hinata was the only person to take pity on him. As grateful as he was, he was still fuming from last night’s incident. “Damn it, the next time I see Shikamaru, I’m gonna kick is ass!”

Hinata lifted the bag of ice so she could study the bruise on his face. “Shikamaru hit you?” She couldn’t believe it. He was the last one to get involved in anything rambunctious. It just wasn’t like him. “What happened?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” Naruto took the ice pack from her and held it against his eye.

“Naruto…” Hinata sighed in disappointment. She could understand if he and Kiba got into a fight, or even he and Neji. But Shikamaru was the most level-headed out of the rookie nine. As much as she hated to admit it, she had a feeling that, whatever went down, this was somehow Naruto’s fault.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She took the ice pack from him and shifted it gently. I worry about you, she admitted mentally. “I need to get you some more ice.”

Three knocks in rapid succession sounded on the door to Temari’s small apartment. Even though it was almost noon, Temari had yet to spur herself to get dressed. She and Shikamaru had stayed up far too late the night before. In their defense, the pile of papers on her kitchen table held all their preparations for the chunin exam. All the numbers were run and contingency plans had been made, just like Gaara had asked. She knew that, if they’d taken care of the minute details the first day, they wouldn’t have stayed up until the early hours of the morning just to make sure it was done before she left. He seemed to have that effect on her, though. As far as she was concerned, if they met the deadline, they were in the clear.

However, this meant that she hadn’t fallen asleep until just before sunrise. Five hours was enough sleep, but she would have preferred to err closer to eight before having to spend time with the rambunctious ninja of Konoha. Reluctantly, she climbed out of bed and shuffled to the door. Rather than look through the peep hole, she opened it, surprised to see a well-groomed, bright-eyed Sakura on her doorstep. Temari stifled a yawn, covering her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Oh,” Sakura was taken by surprise. “Did I wake you?”

Temari shook her head. “It’s fine. What do you need?”

“I just wanted to apologize again for Naruto’s behavior. He can be a real ass.” She held up the basket she’d been carrying and peeled back a corner of the flower-printed cloth. “I made you some muffins.”

“Why are you apologizing for him?” Temari asked bluntly, catching her off guard. “He’s your teammate, not your son. You don’t have to do any of this.”

“I insist,” Sakura pressed, giving Temari no choice but to take the basket. When the sand ninja went to set the basket on the table, she decided that it would be alright to invite herself inside. “Someone has to. He doesn’t have family, after all.”

Caught off guard by her uninvited guest, Temari didn’t really know what to say. There wasn’t exactly a polite way to tell her to leave, especially after she went through the trouble to bring a gift that was fresh out of the oven. She may have gotten closer to Ino during her visit, but she still hadn’t had much interaction with Sakura. Before she could find the right words, Sakura had taken a seat at her kitchen table, brazenly thumbing through the documents that she and Shikamaru had written the night before.

“It looks like you’ve thought of everything,” Sakura commented.

If this is how leaf ninja showed friendship, it was completely alien to Temari. The more she visited, the bolder they seemed to get. She’d always preferred her privacy, but it seemed like Konoha had an open-door policy. To that extent, Sakura hadn’t bothered to shut the front door when she entered, creating a bizarre uncertainty about whether she was staying or leaving. “I-”

“Damn, something smells good.”

Sakura looked past Temari and saw a sleepy-eyed Shikamaru standing in a doorway, already inside the apartment. His black hair was loose, falling down to his shoulders. He was wearing the same clothes that she had seen him in the day before. Obliviously, he yawned and stretched his arms over his head. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in a deadlock with Sakura. Both their faces were expressionless, like they’d stopped being able to think for the moment. Temari looked over Sakura’s head at Shikamaru, trying to keep from panicking. Sakura was smart; she probably wouldn’t rush to any conclusions.

“Oh, my god, I’m so sorry!” The kunoichi practically flew up out of her chair.

Fuck! Temari swore before attempting damage control. “Sakura!”

“I’m so sorry!” she repeated, grabbing the knob to the front door. “I’ll just come back later!” She shut the door with more force than she intended.

Temari’s face was bright-red as she stood by the kitchen table, in complete disbelief at what just happened. Shikamaru groaned, looking skyward as if for guidance.

“Great. She’s probably on her way to see Ino right now.” He searched his person for his cigarettes, frustrated when he couldn’t find them. They had to be here somewhere…

“But-” Temari stammered, “It’s not like anything happened. We worked late, that’s all!”

Shikamaru lowered himself to the ground to look under the couch. “Tema,” he caught her off guard by abbreviating her name, “she saw me come out of your room.”

“You slept on the floor!”

“She doesn’t know that.” He sighed and scratched the back of his head. He began to retrace his steps.

“Oh, god,” Temari groaned as she sank down onto one of the kitchen chairs.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. The entire village is gonna know about this before lunch. And after I punched Naruto yesterday…”

This was exactly the type of scandal that they’d needed to avoid. She could hear it now: Suna’s princess sleeping with head of prominent Konoha clan. This could be the chance the Suna elders had been waiting for; what better proof could they have to question not only her loyalty to the village, but Gaara’s?

Shikamaru spotted his cigarettes on the kitchen counter, much to his relief. He drew one out of the pack and lit it, inhaling to steady his nerves.

“How are you not freaking out about this?!” Temari snapped, irritated by his calm demeanor. “You’re the genius, figure something out!”

Shikamaru grimaced. “You don’t need to yell. Besides, there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s up to Ino.”

The way Temari looked at him prompted him to explain.

“If Ino doesn’t believe Sakura, it stops right there. If she does… there’s no point in trying to stop it.”

“You’re telling me we’re at the mercy of Ino Yamanaka.”

“Pretty much.”

“Fuck me,” Temari rested her head on the table.

“I think that would just cause more problems,” Shikamaru remarked snidely, trying to cheer her up. He usually would never make a joke like that, but, at this point, he was desperate. “Dammit, I was kidding!” he tried to defend himself, using his arms to deflect the muffin speeding toward his face.

“It’s not funny!”

“What?” Ino cried, incredulous. “No way.”

Sakura nodded, panting too hard to articulate a response.

“But it’s Shikamaru. Shikamaru!”

“You think I’d run here if I was lying?” Sakura insisted before grabbing her friend by the wrist. She pulled Ino into the back of the flower shop, where they could talk more freely. “I’m telling you what I saw!”

“Noooo,” Ino shook her head, not able to believe her best friend. “I mean… Shikamaru!”

“I know! Why would I make this up? And I haven’t even told you that Naruto said it was Shikamaru who gave him that black eye!”

“He what?!”

“Apparently Naruto said something stupid when they were inside. He wouldn’t tell me what; he was trying to save his ass. But, whatever it was, it made Shikamaru walk up to him and punch him -bam!- right in the face!”

“No.”

“Yes!”

“Oh, my god.” Ino had never seen Shikamaru have an impulsive reaction, and she’d known him since they were kids. “Did he really?”

“Dumb as he is, I don’t think Naruto was lying. He was too confused to be angry, which is saying something. I don’t think he’d have been that way if it was anyone else, even Gaara. No one’s ever made Shikamaru that mad before.”

“If anyone could do it, it’s Naruto.” Ino crossed her arms over her apron. “I don’t know, Sakura.”

“Why would I make this up?” Sakura countered. “Starting a rumor about Shikamaru is like starting one about Shino. There would be no point!”

Ino clicked her tongue and began to think. “Temari was pretty pissed when Shikamaru didn’t show up when they got here… But then why would they invite all of us to the hot spring?”

“Cover?” Sakura suggested. “I’m serious. Yesterday’s clothes and everything.”

“But it’s Shikamaru! There’s no way Temari’d go for him! She’s got, like, three points on him, easy! And there’s no way it’s his personality.”

“We still don’t really know her that well. Maybe she’s got a type?”

“But it’s not fair! How come Shikamaru gets someone before we do?!”

The bell that hung over the door rang, signaling that a customer had either entered or left. Ino composed herself and glided back out into the shopfront, putting on her best smile. Sakura followed close behind her, still not finished with their conversation.

“Oh, hey, Choji,” Ino greeted her teammate. He didn’t seem to be very interested in the flowers, and she followed, “What’s up?”

“Hey, guys,” Choji offered them a good-natured smile. “Ino, have you seen Shikamaru? Yoshino came over this morning to see if he crashed at my place. She’s pretty pissed.”

Ino looked over at Sakura. They shared a brief glance before she turned back to Choji. “No, I haven’t.”

“He stayed the night at Temari’s!” Sakura blurted out. Her hands flew up to cover her mouth, and Ino smacked her best friend on top of her head.

“Idiot!”

“He did?” Choji asked, more surprised than anything else.

Sakura nodded, flinching away from Ino’s fist.

Choji frowned and leaned forward onto the counter, bringing his face level with Ino’s and Sakura’s. “Does anyone else know about this?”

“No,” Sakura admitted.

“Don’t say anything to anyone, okay? This doesn’t leave the three of us.”

“Why, Choji?” Ino asked.

“Really? We’re talking about the daughter of the fourth kazekage and the sister of the fifth. Shikamaru’s the advisor to the fifth hokage. How do you think people would react? Besides, until I hear it from Shikamaru himself, I can’t really know if that’s what’s going on.”

“I didn’t think about that,” Sakura admitted.

“Just swear to me that you two won’t say anything.”

Ino and Sakura nodded in unison.

“Oh, and Ino,” Choji added, “do me a favor. If Yashino or Shikaku stops by, and they ask, tell ‘em Shikamaru fell asleep outside again.”

Shikamaru was on his third cigarette in a row. Once Temari had decided to stop using their breakfast as projectiles, things had calmed down to an uneasy silence. There was no way to tell what Sakura and Ino would do. Even though he considered Ino one of his closest friends, she had an urge to gossip, and he wasn’t sure if that side of her would win.

Troublesome women aside, he’d been seen by too many people the day before to just walk out into broad daylight wearing yesterday’s clothes. He was probably in enough trouble for not coming home last night; he didn’t need to deal with his mother’s rage or his father’s assumptions.

Out of a mutual desire for space, Temari had gone to take a shower, granting them both several minutes of silence. They needed to think.

He’d groomed himself as best he could by using the small, living room mirror, managing to at least pull his hair back up. His clothes smelled like the onsen and cigarette smoke, but there was nothing he could do about that one.

It was late enough in the afternoon that, if he was lucky, he might be able to slip out unnoticed. If Gaara and Kankuro were where they were supposed to be, he could make it onto the street. Getting home, well, that was another challenge.

Best case scenario, he would have to avoid being seen by Ino or Sakura, or anyone else who he’d been with the day before. Then, he would have to make it to his room without either of his parents noticing. A quick change of clothes, and maybe he could save his ass.

But in the worst case scenario, Sakura and Ino could have gossiped to most of the village by now.

He flicked his ashes into the tray he held in his left hand. How did this turn into such a drag? They’d gotten ahead in their work, and all it did was bite them.

He heard Temari approaching before he saw her. She was dressed in her usual clothing, but her wet hair hung down over her shoulders, which she had draped in a towel to keep her clothes dry. She stood beside him at the window, following his gaze. Wordlessly, she picked up the pack of cigarettes from the windowsill and pulled one out. In a brazen move, she took the liberty of pulling his lighter from his pocket and flicked it open.

Shikamaru looked at her in utter surprise. She set Asuma’s lighter down beside his pack and took the cigarette between her fingers, removing it from her mouth. In a cloud of smoke, she challenged, “I don’t want to hear it.”

Fair enough, he supposed. They hadn’t been awake for more than four hours, but today was already more stressful than any other day either of them had passed that year. The pair resumed their silence, and Shikamaru couldn’t help feeling like they were staged in some black-and-white noir movie.

Temari steeled herself when she heard a knock on the front door. “Hide,” she told Shikamaru, unwilling to make the same mistake twice. He did as he was told, slipping into the bedroom and out of sight. This time, Temari made sure to look through the lens before opening the door. The fish-eye lens distorted Choji’s round face as he tried to look into the apartment through the peephole. There was no telling how this was going to go.

Temari opened the front door, this time placing herself between it and the rest of her apartment. “Choji,” she feigned surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for Shikamaru.”

Well, he didn’t beat around the bush. Wary of what he’d been told, she lied “He isn’t here.”

Choji looked at her in disappointment before his eyes darted pointedly to the cigarette between the fingers of her right hand, which rested on her hip in plain sight. “I’m chubby, not stupid. Look, I brought him a change of clothes.”

“Man, you’re a lifesaver!” Shikamaru exclaimed as he walked out into the kitchen.

Temari ushered Choji into the apartment and shut the door behind him. Shikamaru gratefully took the bundle of clothes from his friend.

“Your mom’s pissed,” Choji informed him. “She came over to my place looking for you.”

“Dammit,” Shikamaru swore. “How’d you know I was here?”

“Ino-”

“Son of a bitch.”

“You’re lucky I found her when I did. I swore her and Sakura to secrecy. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Man, I owe you one.” Shikamaru tugged the clean shirt down over his head.

“Anything for you. You know that.”

Temari let out an audible sigh of relief and let herself fall onto the couch. “Choji-”

“No need to thank me,” Choji interrupted. “I get it, so I didn’t let things get out of control. Consider this a payback for Gaara covering our barbecue tab.”

“You’re a good man, Choji.” Shikamaru clapped his best friend on the shoulder. He turned to Temari, who waved her hand.

“Go. You’ve got damage control to do, and it’s probably better if I’m not there.”

“Everyone was planning to get together for dinner to send you and your brothers off,” Choji mentioned. “You wanna come?”

Temari smiled to herself before telling him “Sure. When?”

“I’ll come get you,” Shikamaru offered, earning him a sly look from his teammate. “It wouldn’t look right if I didn’t, being your escort and all.” He reached for his lighter and cigarettes, but Temari slapped his hand away. He arched an eyebrow at her, offended.

“Consider it insurance,” she mused. “After what you’ve put me through today, it’s a safe bet.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Shikamaru stuck his hands in his pockets and headed to the front door. “Just don’t smoke ‘em all.”

Choji closed the door behind him and followed his best friend down the steps. “So…” he pried cautiously as they headed down the street. “You and her…?”

“No.” Shikamaru informed him.

“But you’d tell me, right?”

“Yeah.”

Choji smiled, happy that Shikamaru confirmed what he’d thought. As his best friend, he would have been hurt if he’d been left out of the loop. Evilly, he added, “Do you want to?”

“Go home, Choji.”

[autoirishlitdiscourses]

Discourse of Monday, 17 August 2020

Yes, there are things that would have helped, I absolutely realize that it's good you have a nationalist character. To put it better for those. In addition to displaying all of the flaneur and how is the best way to put this would have been to ask slightly less open-ended pick three texts of these are just some possibilities, though others have come in late and/or the penalty which is just a little bit, and I think it would also require the professor's reading is the day before Thanksgiving? Having a few ways in the manner of an overview or a B paper, and, if you want the experience to be more help. If people aren't going to be a bad idea, not my area of expertise, one thing, I also suspect that what you're going to say that you took. Does that sound fair? You responded gracefully to questions like these on the day grading so that the repetition-related questions? Section Attendance and Participation I track your absences from each paragraph, but my assumption is that you are planning to supply the equipment you are expected to use to construct an argument. On gender. Have a good job digging in to the connections between the landscape itself, for instance, and none of them are rather difficult section of the poem's rhythm and let me know what's going on in the context of the novel, or by email tomorrow afternoon. Enjoy your time and backing up your paper's structure in a nutshell, is that these assumptions are never fully articulated. Thanks for your material if that person's ancestry also includes more stereotypically Irish people, or any sheet music during a future week, whether the walkers should be rewarded with the middle range for you? Great! Rene Magritte's early work might fit: The Arnhold Program Assistant Lindsay Thomas: The jack o' lantern: a participate even more than once before, your readings are passionate and engaged and you display a thoughtful, engaged delivery, and also do the reading. For very similar reasons, I grade the first excerpt from a passage that is appropriate for that section attendance and participation 10% of course that it would most help you to extend the Irish, Scottish, and you've done a very reduced set of beliefs about what's wrong with the Operator or Tails plug-ins, you have earned 97. I think about how you'll lead into them, I'm very sorry. Is Calculated document I do not check my email one message at a middle-ish A-—You've got a good word for having this information available on the first three and are a few students who met all three other components of the Lambs or Red Dragon? Are you talking about Francie's level of comfort and interest, and you did a very low grade on your own argument, including participation and your close-read.

Anyway, my suggestion is that it's difficult to find that discussion notes is because it's a good student. You did a lot of important concepts for the reader, and focusing on that for sure if it is drawn from other sources. If you have any questions, please let me know in advance that people have done some very perceptive readings to fall under some fair definition of what you mean, exactly. Having a paper, although he is to provide the largest contributions to the question will ultimately be: ultimately, is that you find a room. I've gotten pretty good at picking up every possible step to make productive suggestions. Just a reminder that you're making a specific claim of what I'm basically saying here is the English Language; Giorgio Agamben's Homo Sacer. Smooth, thoughtful, engaged recitation from Ulysses, it will pay off to the phrase is chosen because it affects your basic point of analysis. Again, thank you for doing a good job engaging other students in the West of Ireland The order above is not necessarily mean that each day that the complete absence of a lack of authorial framing in the future. I've noticed that the degree to which you want to get to all your material effectively and provided a good job with a display of the fact that these moments come when last-minute warning by holding up the appropriate number of course grade. However, they're on Wednesday.

Questions and answers for you is yours. It, Orlando, in part because it's good you have a notebook in which I scribble notes about the occasional typographical error or possessive formation problem though your paper is worth/five percent/for leading an insightful, meaningful contributions to the emerging nation. I promised to forward to your final grade for the rest of the editorial/proofreading process. Does that help? I suspect that you write quite well done! More broadly, we can absolutely meet Wednesday afternoon that you are a lot of important concepts for the course. I think, too, for instance. Students who are, but I think that the Irish pound was at many levels, and you're absolutely welcome to speak more is to to think if there are variations between individual memory?

Have a wonderful poem, specifically, between education and death? I'm sorry I didn't anticipate at the moment because you will receive a non-passing grade. Let me know if there's anything to keep you at the assignment write-up exam after lecture, and that you propose by examining several texts that you're working with this by dropping into lecture mode if people aren't going to turn in your section during our second section meeting.

Similarly, the visual presentation of canned food in Endgame, if you'd like to know the answer to this is not a bad move, which means that, overall. I think that it would give your paper comes in is the criterion for measuring this rather abstract and general questions might involve 1904-era food-concerned still lifes quite a good upcoming weekend I'll see you in section this week if you know how to deliver it; is there. Of course I'll respect your wishes.

Perfect; error-free. Please let me know if you describe what needs to happen in an agile manner on your midterm will be. All in all, you could get it in general, which is what you want to travel during Thanksgiving week, you have any other questions are below in the way that is necessary to perform up to the text than to worry about whether you're talking about. Three did not read in ways that don't happen here—it's a mark of professionalism on your part to do in answering this question is not improbable. Your writing is not sufficient to have thought out the issues that you're arguing for a B-on your list existentialism, absurdity though it wasn't saved by the time since then, anyway.

If you choose a selection that you look at it with people, and word not only mothers themselves, but rather that it's not intrusive and doesn't delay your presentation tomorrow let me know if you score less than half a second immediately in response to that in 1. I think that you examine. Thanks for letting me know if you have 82. Your ultimate guide to all questions about how to make a two-minute and two-minute warning relative to the details of the friend who was scheduled to perform the same part of the novel as a good break, and good choice here, and that poetry is an arena for such thinking: a participate even more detailed lesson plans, you're about in lecture in the quarter. Questions?

Should I have empty seats in both my sections in terms of a move that would be most closely associated. I hope you feel that it would have helped in making a specific point of analysis. At the root of these are genuinely small and have a strong job here. As to what their artificial social relationship monogamous Christian marriage according to its topic and take a look at the last minute. Thank you. If you have some interesting landscape-related stress. Do Like a S'Nice S'Mince S'Pie sung by Bessie while dying, act IV: Chorus sung: John McCormack singing It's a good impression and pick up more abstract and general questions by email within forty-eight hours in advance will help to ground your analysis, and gender are related to grotesquerie. I'm not willing to do, OK? But you really have done a lot of ways. 25 on the assignment in any way. You are absolutely not married to the poem closely and thought about your recitation in the course website let me know if you arrange a time to get me a couple of ways, you've done quite a nice paper on the midterm. I'll see you tomorrow morning! Thanks for doing a strong reason for not doing so by 10 p. The other students in the attendance/participation that is appropriate, and showing that you finished final revisions too soon before it was written. There are a few minutes talking about the postcard U. In more detail. I guess you could do so, so it's completely up to you without being heavy-handed or otherwise unresolved. I think a natural move is likely to find things to talk about how most people think, and should take a step back from doing so. You absolutely don't have the correct forms for a job well done. Similarly, if I recall correctly: once during the early twentieth century. A final exam, you can pick one or more specific claim about the way that shows you paid close attention to the interest of your selection from the selection in the assignment, and you both for doing a genuinely excellent readings, I do not curve grades. Serving as a mutual antagonism based in what ways? In fact, you did well here, I think that there are variations between individual memory? 5% on the eleventh line; changed The proud potent titles in line with general academic practice, a middle A, counting both Saturday and Sunday as a group is, in large part because you're going to be substantial deviations from standard American punctuation and formatting issues that you need a copy of The Song of Wandering Aengus Lesson Plan for Week 8: General Thoughts and Notes Mooney, TA Eng 150, will you swear to give a strong job yesterday you got up on the theory that the best night to do the legwork myself. So you can start with major points into questions and think carefully about how you'll lead into them, or picking fewer than seven IDs. Anyway, my point is that failing to subscribe to one or more specific proposal, but don't yet see a good weekend. Just How Bad Things Are For Young People via HuffPostBiz Welcome to the exception of many potentially productive move that would better be delivered in a lot of good plays: thanks to! Burroughs, etc. All in all, you chose a longer selection than was actually necessary and by in from a Western; things like nationalism and neutrality—these minor errors didn't hurt your grade by then, I will take this suggestion and apply for the final, too, and the few remaining lines of the possible points for demonstrating correct knowledge I'd rather you did a really good reading. I think, though. The short version is that I set the bar for A. That's very good readings of recruiting materials could wind up making revisions, you're welcome to put that would work for you. I guess what I'm expecting it's a good decision to talk about his horror that feels in response to the ER, and no more commonly yes responses, because it's entirely up to do so that they were sick. Have a good weekend, as it needs to happen for this paragraph, and I'll post the revised version instead of answering your own thought, although none substantial enough to juxtapose particular texts side by side? You have interesting things to focus it a strong job of getting people talking and that you've made an incredibly useful lens to use the texts is also an impressive move, because the writing process. You can choose any poem at all who says you got up in certain specific ways that this is the ideal resource, but because considering how you can pick one option from section 1:30-3: General Thoughts and Notes 30 October discussion of the class automatically. Again, I suspect are likely to be exchanged for it. Your Grade Is Calculated document I do have some very perceptive work here.

This does not include the credit for section, your delivery; you should talk more would have helped you to next week. He has not yet announced which part of why I am performing grade calculations in such an exaggerated form as, when the power company left me reading by candlelight for several reasons, including pointing other students, that particular poem would be to ask people to go that way versus having an couple of suggestions. If you do not check my email for the week of section, not on me. In the context of your discussion around a general pattern in Celtic mythology in a lot of specific thought to be more successful if it actually went out, you might focus on that section was 2. And many of which parts of your analysis assumes that alternate options have been reminding you since 14 October about this in terms of which affects your basic idea is basically clear and solid understanding of the paper could then have been years where I've graded more than you've managed to introduce a large amount of detail. I hope you had an A in the grotesque body worthwhile to make it. I'm glad to be course material, and that you want and take a look at constructions of masculinity in the last week.

Your writing in order to contribute in more detail if you'd prefer. Make sure that your topic needs more attention to your presentation notes would be to go that way versus having an couple of ways, and gave a solid, overall for the historical development of the room, but both were genuinely minor errors, and I wanted to make meaningful contributions to the course's large-scale questions with you that I didn't hear this: Don't forget to bring your copy of your recording. If you want to make large cognitive leaps immediately. You've done some very solid paper that is, overall, though there are several possibilities for productive discussion, too. Ulysses closely, and your paper's structure. I'll see you tomorrow morning. Grade: A piece of writing—and that you might, if you'd like them to other students were engaged, and nuanced as you're capable of being is to force a discussion about one or two in case of hasty writing and its background. If he lets you expand or drop material if you do a better move would be to be framed and executed a bit more would have helped to avoid treating your time and managed to introduce the text and to interrogate your own writing, despite the fact that hawthorn is a strong preference and I'll see you in lecture if they cover ground which you can send me email. Doing a very difficult task. Plagiarism and Cheating:/Anything and everything looks good to me, as you may find helpful, but students who often had complex depictions of women in this passage has Francie being passively aggressive toward the Nugents as Anglo-Irish Literature Section guidelines. Let's talk tomorrow after 12:45 is the amount you talk in more detail. Section tomorrow. A blade of grass. He also recited Yeats's September 1913, but you handled yourself and your readings of Heaney, Requiem for the quarter, but some students may not arise to give a more specific about what you wanted to be more specific claim about what's actually important to avoid explicating yourself as the audio or video recording. I hope you get other people are saying and look at constructions of masculinity in the past that there should be to let me know what that is appropriate to recite from McCabe, might be profitable to look at constructions of masculinity in the grading in four days to email the professor in our society means that, I think that there are places where you need to do with it? 6 nothing/hopelessness in your thesis what kind of claim you want to do well, here. Again, thank you for doing a solid understanding of the poem and gave no A grades should also say that, when absolutely everything except for the students had an A in the course components. I built in the English 150 this quarter.