i͖͓ͬͯͦͣ̑̍͗ͧ͠ ͓̣̒͗͠͠c͇͇̪͛ͪ͠a͚̫͔̎ͦ̂ͣͅǹ̴̨̺̲̤̪̏͂͊ͭͯͤ’̧̼̙̗͎̰̯̥̘ͪ̿̏̚t̘̳͉̱͖̍̓̀ͮ͘͡ ̢̓ͥ̃̏̚͏̲͈̜̜̘̣̝̲f̱̥̣͙͇̐ͩͤͧ͘̕ͅu̴̬͓͖̻͖ͭ̇̍͛͡c̡̳̗͍̣̣̔̓͞͡k̹̰̦̮̉̎̃̉̊͆̓ì̛̦ͪͭ͒́͞n̝̮̳̫͐̆ͧg̷͙͆͐ͨ͒ͬ ̼̥̩͇ͯ͒̊ͬ͢͡t̡̢̙̘͖̏ͩ̎̑̅͑̚a̱̭̬͚͌ͣͭ͌̆ͫ̋ͥ́k̤͖̦ͫ̾e͉͈̭̟̹̬͈͊͋̽ͧ̿̅ͯ̚ ̴̦̙͈̘ͮͫ̈̒ͭ̽ͣ́̎a̫̩̺̫͉͕͈͔͍͗̈ͣ͋̆̚͡l̦͈̓ͣ͊ͣͣͪ̽ļ̀ͧ͂ͩͯ̑҉̰̰̝̯̻͇ ̵̧̺̺̣͚͚̼̓̈͐́o̟̖̟̖̱̥̺͖ͬ̐̿͋̀͊́f̨̨͈̣͍͎̳̠͎̳́̌́̃͛̍̊͘ ̳͍̗̩̤̻͂͛͂͘ţ͚̰͇̯̜̯ͦ̐ẖ̯̺͔̟̱̜̽ͮ̊̀͞͡ͅi̪͙̟͉̜̫̩ͨͥ͂ͣ̃̏̓̚͘͞ͅs̨̭͉̦̐͗͒̀ͧͣ̊̑͟ ̈́ͣ̍̐̄̑͐̓̎͏̶̻̟̺̰̪̭͟aͯ͑͌̑̍͊̍̃̌͏̵̱͇n̨̢̢̦͔̣̩̮̦̞̥̜̐̈́̂ͯ͐̔͛y̡̪̣͎̪̰ͩ̉ͅm̶̴̪̞̺̖̜ͩ̈ͤo̦̭̻͎̙̜͔ͭ̽̋ͧͭͬ͗̓͢͜ŕ̳̜ͨ̊ͭê̼̥͚̠̭̇͊͟ ̶̢̻͍̘̤̫̩͊ͤͤ͂̊͑͡s̷̗̭͆̾ͧ̏e͑ͯ̀͞͏͓͇̱͚̮͇ͅr͖̺̳͊ͭ̈́́͢͡ͅi̠͕̳͓̫̖͈̿̏͂͟ǫ̢̙̺̣͇̈ͥ͋́͠ͅü̷̞̯͍̼̭͌ͧ̓ͣͤ͑ͯs̶̪͉̫̘̦͓͔̮̩͂̈́ļ̖̪̜̜͈̼͙͔̈͆̇̉͑͘͘y͈͓̻̫̽ͫ̔̕̕̕ͅ ̧̼ͣ̌̾͆͗̈ͨ̚̕͟ͅw̡̟̜̹̬ͤ̇̍͑̀̄̑͐̂͟h̴̗̬͚̻̻̞̋̿͛͋ͥ͋ͯͦ͢͡a̙͌̑̋͜ṭ̸̵̹̭̇͒͑ͮ̇͂ ̵̘̘̰̹̖̉͑͆͗̚ț̭͈̲͎̜̰̮̅͆ͣ͗ͮ͘͢h̹̫͓̣̣̋ͬ͆̋ͨ̇̈́̀ẽ͕̯͇̰̠̬̺̭̽͂͂̎̽͊ ̵͉̜̳͙͚ͮ̀̎̀ͩ̑̇̚f̛̙̤̰̳̹ͭ̾̐̈́̒̚̕u͎ͬ̂͑ͤ͑c̸̸͖̬̮̰̺̽̆͐͐̔̕k̴ͩͮͨ̿̇̆͊̀҉͉͚̭̥̪̘͓̬̜ ̶̦̠̩̖͖̰̻̦ͩͨ̅̅͂̋͋ͩ

Q:1,4,20

Anonymous

1: The person I love the most
The few individuals in my innermost circle are not ranked, and will never be ranked.

4: A book or film that changed my life.
I don’t know. Skipping this one because nothing in particular comes to mind.

20: Five things I want to do before I die
a) Earn shitloads of money so that I can do the things I want to do
b) Create a film piece that really says something. Or more than one film piece. Tell stories to the world to make the world think. To change lives.
c) Travel to lots of places and take lots of pictures and hopefully not get murdered
d) Write an autobiography which probably nobody will read
e) Be super good at the Japanese language and live in Japan for a period of time and hopefully not die from an earthquake

Moffat, you better throw me a hell of a banger to end this seventh season because the suspense for Clara is not enough to feed my thirst for mystery and crazy twists in plots.

Also because all the other season endings have been absolutely crazy good.

Oh bloody hell, half a year of Doctor Who makes me sound like one of those fandom girls.. Which I’m not. Really not.

Okay. I don’t rave about this shit a lot. Get over it.

I’m really glad I caught up on Doctor Who.
It’s just brilliant. All these things it reminds me of.

I guess why I love the show is that it not only fills me up with a sense of wonder about time and the universe, technically reawakening the sense of wonder I have about everything that I see actually, but inspires me to get in touch with my curiosity and it also shows me the wonders and the beauty of the human condition and also the majesty of the skies and planets above. Some people feel terrified about how small the human race is, and how small this planet is compared to the rest of the universe. I am not afraid. I am in awe and I am in love with the vast, never-ending universe. I feel its breeze gushing down on me as I bask in its infinite beauty. Beauty I have forgotten to appreciate.

Fucking love the universe.

Delete. Delete. Delete. I don’t really know why I just keep feeling like doing so. Throwing my words out and just erasing them, much like I’m just throwing clay pigeons out to be shot by a gun. Throwing them out and just watching them get wiped out. Not sure why. I find that not a single thing I say feels right at all anymore and it’s severely frustrating. It’s annoying. I’m annoying.

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