Is this a threat, and if yes, are you threatening me with my own writing?
(It’s working. Very scary. Please don’t.)
Is this a threat, and if yes, are you threatening me with my own writing?
(It’s working. Very scary. Please don’t.)
Delightful, I love guests. Remember, children: be a good and kind host, but firmly ask your guests to leave if you feel yourself becoming their host.
Going anon is not a crime and if it was, I would be neither barrister nor judge. As for the about, I’m
As do many things in life, and death too.
Hello,
thank you for notifying me on this. I indeed did not consider this when setting up the study, I’m sorry. Sadly the study is already running and cannot be changed but I will consider it in my future research. Thank you for wanting to participate and sending this message!
Hello,
I am in a master’s degree for forensic science.
Hello! That is very difficult for me to answer. I know my first stories must have been from when I was 12-15 which is quite the age range but I honestly do not know anymore. My output varied hugely over the years; sometimes nothing for months, then an unfinished short story. I have never written a whole book – I have a few ideas that feel like a big universe to me, a whole world, and that demand to be paid attention and love to, but they are not nearly ready. I give them and myself that time. I was very self-conscious when I was younger and many stories never touched paper, just staying in my head.
I find it hard to talk about my writing history, strangely, because I used to feel insecure about others going “I started at 3 and wrote my first book by 10″ (slight exaggeration, forgive me).
Then one day I decided well, a badly written story is better than no story, so from that day on, I began writing down every idea no matter how terrible it seemed. That must have been around 18-21.
But writing is an ageless discipline. You can start at 20, at 30, at 60. It WILL take time to improve. It just does. Talent is nice but it only gives you a headstart, or a map in your hand, or nice shoes, but constant work walks you along the path and navigates your journey. I’m very flattered and blushing by you calling me eloquent… but no, I was not always. My first stories were as cliché as they come. Some still are. Some are only to others. Some days I think any word I touch is garbage and I forgot how to string a sentence. English isn’t my native language and sometimes it’s a purring kitten, sometimes a beast I’m forced to tame. I’m really happy you see my work as eloquent; I did not consciously try to make it so, but if it sounds elegant and native, then this made my day and probably my whole year. Thank you!
Obviously there is only one kind of pizza, Alexa play Margherita.
my parents gave me a slice of american “bread” when i was but one innocent hour old and i recoiled so far in disgust that i almost unbirthed myself by crawling back up the womb. that’s when they knew and i have been german ever since
All messages that I have gotten have been super nice and complimenting my poetry – except for one ask where I learned that a movie called jaws exists and the person was not indeed asking me if there are jawbones that come alive and grow legs.
But I do check the tags periodically for fun and here are some of my absolute highlight gem comments from the famous bones post. Generally, there are a few different categories of tags and replies you get when you suddenly have A Famous Tumblr Post™:
Who has bones? Do animals have bones? Do humans have bones? Do any of us have bones?

Then, you have fandoms noting that bones have nothing to do with them – except for that one fandom:

Then, there are my favourite one-word-only tags:

And finally… a collection of Questionable And Interesting:








And… this gem.
