= Lovely is the network
Kevin. 16. Welcome. I'm a Californian/Whovian with an affinity for all things science-y and redolently aromatic. I am also attracted to sounds and the making of sounds, in a generally musical sense. I appreciate cookies and boba milk tea. I also enjoy Homestuck.

one of the takeaways from today, from this summer thus far, is that i become roughly 1729% more productive when i take myself to more novel places to work/study 

(novel being defined as not inside my room)

taking my laptop downstairs, for starters; editing video in the children’s section of the local library; putting together an application that has p. much changed my life/the rest of my high school career in a hotel room next to a noisy ice machine

oh and hauling my older, heavyweight laptop to bj’s for a something i don’t remember that apparently couldn’t wait.

i’ve been to starbucks precisely four times in my life, two in the last week alone, and each time has been associated with something of a certain magnitude of profundity or absurdness. today i found out that university starbucks contain great and underused study nooks, and that the same can be said of most college campuses, to generalize.

i was seriously considering driving up to uci after school every day to get stuff done their b/c the vibe is so conductive to doing so. (until i remembered that my parking permit will have expired at the end of this month.)

i am already (looking forward??) to senior year, but not w/out some trepidation and apprehension. the past two weeks have served as a reminder of finals week, and tomorrow only promises to be busier. i knew that i’d someday have to confront the need to meticulously timeblock each waking hour my day, just to make sure i’m not going too insane. that time is tomorrow now. may the productivity gods be with us all.  

on a tangentially-related note, figuring out how to massively simplify an intimidating excel spreadsheet is a really gr8 feeling. especially knowing that i didn’t have many other distractions to keep me from figuring out that an =IF formula required more than two parameters. 


LILY AND THE PORTRAIT:    Portraits could only mimic their real counterparts, even the headmaster portraits that were specially trained to guide Hogwarts’ future generations. Severus had no such time in his single year as Headmaster—and yet, his portrait seemed real enough to befriend. She first found him in a oft-empty frame by the armor gallery and tried to show Al, but Al said that they already met once, and they didn’t get past introductions and “Your father named you what?”     She bore the old headmaster’s sneers better than her brothers, and he was kinder to her, in his own way. She found that if she brought her Potions homework and sat underneath the frame, he would ridicule her mistakes as she worked but slowly enough for her to correct each of them. In her sixth year, after showing him her O in Potions, he told her where to find his old textbook.    On her last day of Hogwarts, she knocked next to the frame. Slowly, one of his eyes opened, like a serpent awoken from its slumber.    “Thank you, Professor.”    His lip curled upwards. She sensed some pride. “You are welcome. You were an excellent pupil.” He paused momentarily. "Miss Potter."    If her father were listening, he’d have thought it strange, for it would have been the first time that he heard his last name uttered in that voice without disdain.

LILY AND THE PORTRAIT:
    Portraits could only mimic their real counterparts, even the headmaster portraits that were specially trained to guide Hogwarts’ future generations. Severus had no such time in his single year as Headmaster—and yet, his portrait seemed real enough to befriend. She first found him in a oft-empty frame by the armor gallery and tried to show Al, but Al said that they already met once, and they didn’t get past introductions and “Your father named you what?
    She bore the old headmaster’s sneers better than her brothers, and he was kinder to her, in his own way. She found that if she brought her Potions homework and sat underneath the frame, he would ridicule her mistakes as she worked but slowly enough for her to correct each of them. In her sixth year, after showing him her O in Potions, he told her where to find his old textbook.
    On her last day of Hogwarts, she knocked next to the frame. Slowly, one of his eyes opened, like a serpent awoken from its slumber.
    “Thank you, Professor.”
    His lip curled upwards. She sensed some pride. “You are welcome. You were an excellent pupil.” H
e paused momentarily. "Miss Potter."
    If her father were listening, he’d have thought it strange, for it would have been the first time that he heard his last name uttered in that voice without disdain.

❝Darling, all night
I have been flickering, off, on, off, on.❞
Sylvia Plath,Fever 103°.” from Ariel: The Restored Edition (via lifeinpoetry)

giraffepoliceforce:

"You can’t just change the race of cultural icons like Captain America! It’s an important part of their identity and message!"

Jesus: Ah yes.

Jesus: Can’t imagine who would do that.

Jesus: What a shame.

coolscar:

somebody told me that you made a text post that looked like a text post i made in february of last year

moornin:

we should all strive to be as body positive as moominpappa