Wow, so in exactly 2 and a half hours, my 1 year sub will finally have run out. Which means that in exactly 2 and a half hours, I will finally be 21.
A whole year has already gone past like a flash. It's hard to believe how much has happened in that time. And since I will have no more pretty journals, I wanted to write one more, just to make my page look nice haha. Plus I adore anything to do with Keep Calm And Carry On, so I couldn't resist.
I couldn't for the life of me even try to list all the people whom I wish to tell how much I love them, and thank them for sticking with me, even though we all know how insane I can get at times. I've made so many new friends and lost so many old ones in this past year, and I just want to say I love you all. But for now, I'm going to use this last journal to broadcast my friend's work, because art is pretty. Also probably going to put in some random favs of mine, so deal with it
Big Riku's Life Guide pt2Welcome to the second installment of Big Riku's guide to life. In this issue, we look over the complex, bare truth of the issue of pantsless people. Come with me now as we delve into this half-naked debate and ask the question: "Peter, it's 7 o'clock and you're still wearing pants. What's the occasion??"
1) Where have my pants gone?
For some, it is not an issue of feeling the need to remove their pants, it is quite simply a matter of, as the saying goes, getting caught with their pants around their ankles. Take, for example, last night. After coming home last night around 10 oclock, I went to bed with my beloved Kairi and promptly started takingtheboatdown (only Ryan will understand this. All others, just give up.) After about an hour, Emo!Axel surprised me by coming home and taking her pants off, entirely without knowing I was there. I came out of my room and found her in the hallway, still without pants. In moments like this, there are several options to take.
The Wordsmith"So you want a word of your own?" The Wordsmith asks me.
I nod nervously, unsure of what to say. Any words I say are forfeit to this man. He could steal them forever as payment and I'd never be able to use them again.
"Let me get a look at you then, and I'll see if you can have one of my words."
I step into the dim light towards the man who forged language. He sees me and I can see him. Just. He seems to fade in and out of reality, maybe he isn't real. Maybe he's just a word. The Wordsmith
Just what is he? He's always there, giving you the words you need, taking away the ones you shouldn't say yet, making new ones all the time. He gives you your name and he can take it away again because he made that word and it's his. We're his. Humanity is a word he made.
He tilts his head to the side and then to the other. Almost like an owl. He doesn't look like one though. He looks like what we describe him as. His words used by us give him form. I couldn't tell you what he looks like though
The Watch and the WatchmakerSpace.
A strange word,
I made it myself.
It seemed apt.
It was dark, empty.
It stretched on forever.
An expanse of just this.
All there was for me,
was this pen, these four walls,
and my own inspiration.
Usually, I would amuse myself
with more trivial things.
If only I could describe them.
But a day upon where no other
thought came to mind, I began
something far greater than before
and it was marvellous, exalted,
by myself alone. Until another came.
Until he continued my legacy.
Look upon my tale and wonder:
if he and I were one and the same,
what is he? What am I?
I drew an oval upon the floor.
I drew upon it strange shapes,
with amusing loops and
I called it a planet.
I decided the oval was lonely.
So I drew more of them
of different sizes, shapes
Two Fast, Three SlowThere is a knock at the door.
For a moment I sit there, light from the TV shining against my face. It's a nice night; not warm, not cold, but if I go outside it smells of stars.
I shudder, stand.
Knock, knock, knock.
Two fast, three slow, playing to a tune in my head. Two fast, three slow. Two fast...
I grin wryly, retreating to the kitchen. The TV is blaring, the kettle is whistling and my hands work automatically. My thoughts are miles away, years behind me, days in front of me. I stop and for a moment, all I see is a supernova of colour.
Two fast, three slow, there is a knock at the door.
Clutching a cup of coffee I curl into the couch by the fire. Images flash before my eyes, colours and scenes being acted out cheerfully that hardly register in my head.
For a moment, the world loses focus, swirls and dances around my head. I laugh, shut my eyes and all I can hear is a knock, knock, knock.
Two fast, three slow, it won't stop pounding against my head.
I sigh, open the d
The main thing I'm going to miss about my sub running out? My stamps ;A; And my shoutout box that has Demy-kins singing to me
But all in all, I really love you retards
PS Anyone on Pottermore should totally add me - SilverLeviosa38 (just make sure you let me know who you are so I'll actually accept you)
PPS Now that I've actually finished the journal finally, I actually only have 59 minutes of being 20 left now xD