"Uczenia się czegoś nowego codziennego"

Tumblr Anniversary!

So it’s officially been a year! When I first got my tumblr I was the last person I thought would ever even keep up with a blog, but I did. yay.

Let the adventure continue!

HBP: How did Harry not realize the hand writing in the Half-blood Prince’s potion book was the same as the hand writing he had spent 5 years reading off a black board?

slytherin-in-the-tardis:

stillnot-ginger:

starshiprangerjess:

2-beds-and-a-coffee-machine:

#because Harry’s an idiot that’s why

#For the main character of such a good book series #He really is an idiot #Ooh what is this long skinny broomstick shaped package? #ITS A BROOMSTICK NO WAY

#Slytherin house is a snake #heir of slytherin can talk to snakes #HMM I WONDER WHAT’S IN THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS #MAYBE IT’S A CHIHUAHUA #see this is why he’s not in ravenclaw

(Source: tonkswyrda, via atlsportslove)

Senor T’s Lament to Foolery

I really need to get back to work so last one

I pity the fool drenched throughout a monsoon,

gambling his soul to a business tycoon,

the one that’s unable to pay for their education

I pity the fool who’s evermore on vacation

I pity the fool whose wife slept around

The one whose boyfriend was never found

whose heart was left and crushed on the table

I pity the fool who believed in the fable

I pity the fool who has now turned to dust

The one whose mind fills only with lust

whose car slowly drowned in the river

I pity the fool who feels nothing, yet quivers

I pity the fool who believed in the voice of the people

I pity the fool who jumped off of that steeple

I pity the fool who thinks he’s athletic

I pity the fool whose walk of shame is even pathetic

Yet,

Most of all who I pity is the fool in the city

The fool who I pity is me. 

A Toast

So in my attempt to avoid reading/doing my essay I was looking through some old documents and found this poem I wrote and figured I’d share because, well, why not?

So here I find myself giving a toast 

Something I am not accustomed to,

For I am not one to boast

We toast about all that we’ll do,

all that we’ll see,

but does it even end happily?

We’re taught to commemorate joyous formalities

The so called “greatness” to come.

But are we encouraging lifestyles of triviality?

So I’ll stand here today

Perhaps for a change of pace

A raising of glasses that’s not so cliché:

A Toast to all you toasters ahead

Of course I do not refer to the appliance

Or the well-crisped bread

So I’ll be more specific as I raise my tulip glass

The yellow bubbles lift like lead

To those who think

Or those who believe

You my friends, you raised your glasses

Finding reasons to toast

On those drunken nights

Under the umbrella of freshmen masses

The sound of plastic red solo cups clashing

A sound that makes us believe in doing something quite dashing

The only question we’re asking:

So did we?

New Years Eve

Perhaps Christmas too

The holiday spirit

Simply tempting you

Bottles of joy, clinking together

A sound that makes us believe in doing something better

The only question left to weather:

So did we?

How about honors; a job or graduation

Whirling white wafts, the bells of being wed,

Or even to those now pale and dead.

Over the sounds of clinking champagne coupes,

A sound that makes us believe in doing something astute

So the only question left to group:

So did we?

But did you save a life?

Did you cure disease?

Did you even make a dent in humanity?

Did you solve world peace

or feed the hungry all through?

Or solve any real problems

not involving just you.