Regina Mills + pants
suits
“Can you keep a secret? I’m trying to organize a prison break. I’m looking for, like, an accomplice. We have to first get out of this bar. Then the hotel, then the city, and then the country. Are you in or you out?” – Lost in Translation (2003)
history meme. five assassinations: Julius Caesar, by Senators of Rome
15 MARCH 44BC. On the Ides of March, Julius Caesar entered the Senate. There he was stabbed to death by around forty senators, members of the ruling class and paragons of education and intellect in the society of Ancient Rome. Only twenty-one names of these conspirators, self-styled as “The Liberators”, survive history and nearly all of them staunchly defended the so-called sancitity of the Republic threatened, allegedly, by the quick rise to tyrannical power of Julius Caesar. However, the death of the “tyrant” had also led to the end of the Republic for which he was killed. Civil war broke out, with Mark Antony on one side and Octavian, Caesar’s legal heir, on the other. Eventually, Mark Antony fled to Egypt, where he would be defeated by Octavian. Octavian became Augustus, the first Emperor and founder of the Roman Empire, and ushered in the era of Pax Romana.
I seriously need to stop reading swan queen fan fiction during the middle of the day. I keep having to change clothes. There is no time to do so much laundry..*cough*…*cough*…
Each time I’m asked to tell about myself, I find myself starting the same way: “My name is Kelsey and I’m nineteen..”
but what I’d really like to say is:
“My name means island of the ships but once
I found a translation that said I’m a burning shipwreck-
not a burning ship but a ship that has caught fire
after the wreckage and well, I’d say that’s more fitting.”
I’ve learned that people don’t have time for about me’s.
They need two things: a name and an indication you’re someone special.
The doctors, they want facts not details.
“I broke my leg when I was three, it’s a funny story actually-“
The right or the left?
Conversation over.
The teachers, they want interests, hobbies.
You’re sad, yes, but what do you like to do?
The adults are a spew of questions.
What school do you go to? What classes are you taking?
What do you plan on becoming? Got a boyfriend?
No, stop.
People my own age are the worst.
“I’m planning on an English degree with a concentration in creative writing.”
Yeah, aren’t we all. So how many times have you, you know,
done it?
I’m pulled apart, my interests travelling highway 2
my goals at a stop light at traffic hour,
my medical history on a billboard for the world to see.
But what about me?
Where’s the chance to say,
“I hang on to fistfuls of poetry like loose change in my pockets,
and I keep waiting for the day that the world turns upside down
so I can swim with the stars.
I’m not afraid of darkness, it’s a loneliness I can empathize with it.
It’s the blackholes like cigarette burns inside of me that get troublesome.
I walk through graveyards and read the dashes between years,
each a story I’ll never know. Sometimes I create my own.”
No wonder none of us know who we are anymore.
"It is scary how much I relate to this.
