When You Spend Multiple Hours Choosing A Character Name Rather Than Actually Writing:

The Student’s Lament

Here I am, in my room, looking out the window

The mountains are a dark smear, yet lights are twinkling,

Beauty so far, creating a starry meadow,

Yet I’m still stuck here, with all my thoughts swirling

My laptop is open, and so are my notebooks

I’ve got too much deadlines, and very little time

So I’ll study and study, yearning for my books

But I still look outside, staring at those lights

Laughter comes drifting near, so bright, and so. Carefree

So I start pondering if I made that sound once,

Rather than my sighing, filled with all my misery

That kind of laughter’s just memories, long, long gone

Here I am, hunched over my desk with all my notes,

No longer reading them—Rather, I’m just staring,

My jumbled thoughts just running in different roads,

While I’m here, sitting down, stuck with all my musing

Siblings

They’re twins, but one grew older

Photography

There she is, preserved by photographs

Home

This house was once full before

As an Asian, am disappointed no Asian pope was picked. However, I’m giggling that the conclave chose an American who CRITICIZED Vance.

Lmao he has dual citizenship with Peru. MAGA and Trump are in for a rude awakening!

What can the orange do? Deport this pope?

Barely a few minutes of ao3 being down for maintenance, and I’m dying lmao q_q

My sheer disappointment in not seeing Wolverine/Deadpool fics increase exponentially has led to me staring at my laptop and refreshing the page every minute or so

As someone whose country’s been colonised by 2+ countries, I find it accurate that Piltover didn’t really do that much reflection about how they screwed Zaun over. A lot

The Living Dead

I am the living dead, waiting for my coffin

I have befriended Death, for it is my friend

This world is my foe, hoping to drown me in

Its senseless pleasures, pains, and evils with no end

I do not wait for my time to run its sad course,

Because Death is a jealous friend with greedy hands,

While Life is my enemy, whispering its curses,

And frauds, idiots, and monsters rule Earth’s own lands

The future promises a distant paradise,

One I will not live to see in its fruition

Yet that hope gives me strength to fight the world’s great lies,

To continue pursuing my fatal mission

Perhaps, soon, I’ll no longer be the living dead,

My own corpse six feet under, in an unmarked grave

But tomorrow’s promise is stronger than my dread

With death beside me, I’ll continue being brave

The devs killed off Doey bc they knew Doey was OP enough to kick the Prototype’s ass

My Peace

Move—ignore the phone.

Prioritize. Check deadlines!

Work, and then go gym.

Relax later; evening’s mine.

Who dares rob me of my peace?

The Sea

There resides the sea,

With frothing insanity,

Beckoning sailors