I keep finding myself in this place. The difference is, I know where this place is now. I can't be lost here long. It's been one bad week, but I will stand back up on my feet. It's been one bad week, but I've been through worse and made it back. I've found myself here again, so I'm not lost here. And I will get out.

Writer's block. Not a fan.

There are these two boys who sit in the back

of my English class

Preaching in plaid

shirts and reminding us that

This country should be so much more

I do not understand English majors who complain about having to read and write a lot for their English class.

You're an English major. You're studying reading and writing of the English language, right?

Today was not my favorite day.

I worked all day instead of enjoying the sun. And just discovered that my "little lab assignment" due by midnight is not little at all, but is a heinous monster of an assignment that will probably take me like three days to complete.

Let me tell you a story from a distant land

The girl beloved, the girl self damned

Surrounded by people, infinitely alone

Behold the Ice Queen on her throne

It’s made of glass and grains of sand

And memories she never had

The sharpest edges cut her down

She bleeds but damn it makes her proud

Standing, blood drips to her toes

Barefoot and bloody, but no one knows

Because her magic tells them otherwise

Because instead of truth they’d rather be blind

To escape it better pluck out your eyes

Offer your hands and let them be tied

They pulled out her heart as a sacrifice

Because she prayed to make it through the night

So now a vision, now a dream

She haunts the castle and she can’t leave

A wisp of a specter with a story to tell

An angel who forgot that from heaven she fell

Now with sad, white eyes and a naked frown

She wears on her head the broken crown

She tried to cast away so many times

But it keeps coming back night after night

And she doesn’t know why, she doesn’t know how

Either how to be lost or how to be found

So she wanders the snow, cold and barefoot

And watches the mountains, pale and distant

She doesn’t move just stares and stares

And starts to cry like she can’t bear

The sight of the distant rocky cliffs

Night after night she repeats this

Because someone told her once that he would move the mountains for her

But he lied because still those mountains tower over her

So even as a ghost, even in death

Her utter loneliness she can’t forget

First week of school it's very important to look adorable