Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band got into the Yellow Submarine. Emily. 20. Female. College. Freshman. North Carolina. Fangirl. Kinsey Scale: 2.5. Gay Rights. Writer. Film Student. Music Lover. Comic Book Geek Extraordinar.
I don't know who I am right now. I know who I'd like to be, however. Happy, funny, adorable, loved, fashionable, sexy, educated, a British citizen, a true artist, and then some. It might not all happen. It might all happen. Either way, I'm going for it. Wish me luck!
fandom/internet life: I live in a lot of fandoms, ship a lot of relationships, and wish I had fanfiction for a lot of different things. I'm a screenwriting major who wants to be a showrunner, although writing a pilot is significantly harder than I ever thought possible.
My journal is FO.
so it goes:
"People aren't supposed to look back. I'm certainly not going to do it anymore. I have finished my war book now. The next one I write is going to be fun. This one is a failure, and had to be, since it was written by a pilliar of salt. It begins like this: Listen: Billy Pilgram has come unstuck in time. It ends like this: Poo-tee-weet?"
“'If you ever go to Cody, Wyoming,' I said to him lazily, 'just ask for Wild Bob.'" [Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.; Slaughterhouse-Five or The Children's Crusade: A Duty-Dance with Death]