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#unnaturally
I’m the princess of typos a mistress of mistakes the duchess of defects a lady of lapses the empress of errors Let’s keep things informal you don’t have to bow I carry as many erasers as the law allows From now on, you can call me ‘Your highness,’ unless they start dusting off the guillotines. My written French is, at best, imperfect, I make grave mistakes. Mixing up things like my é (aigus) and è (graves). “Without the mistakes,” the TA shrugged, “you had one of the highest marks.” “Baiser-moi,” I whispered, disappointedly. I thought I’d written a solid paper on omega balances and oxidative stress measurements. Now that I’m in med-school I’ve so many things to learn. Did dinosaurs like doughnuts? Do squirrels tell nutty jokes? But it’s Sunday, I’m not learning anything today. I am, in fact, languishing in free-hours. It’s an unnatural scene - no pencils, no books, no studying student’s ***** looks. Pencils are having a heyday, in Paris, this year - they’re finally chic! I’ve always been a pencil girl (did I mention typos?). I know everyone says that now but it’s true, I swear. Making the Girl Scout Sign “Agh! I need a pencil,” someone said in class, just yesterday. I pretended not to hear them and griped my #5 mechanical-pencil a little closer and tighter. . . Songs for this: The Spot - Your Smith Decide to be happy - MisterWives . . 🎄🦌 It's that time of year - Here's a Christmas Playlist 🎄🦌 https://daweb.us/xmas/Christmas_16.mp3
0
Nov 15, 2025
Nov 15, 2025 at 10:36 PM UTC
anaisvionet
the princess of typos
I’m the princess of typos a mistress of mistakes the duchess of defects a lady of lapses the empress of errors Let’s keep things informal you don’t have to bow I carry as many erasers as the law allows From now on, you can call me ‘Your highness,’ unless they start dusting off the guillotines. My written French is, at best, imperfect, I make grave mistakes. Mixing up things like my é (aigus) and è (graves). “Without the mistakes,” the TA shrugged, “you had one of the highest marks.” “Baiser-moi,” I whispered, disappointedly. I thought I’d written a solid paper on omega balances and oxidative stress measurements. Now that I’m in med-school I’ve so many things to learn. Did dinosaurs like doughnuts? Do squirrels tell nutty jokes? But it’s Sunday, I’m not learning anything today. I am, in fact, languishing in free-hours. It’s an unnatural scene - no pencils, no books, no studying student’s ***** looks. Pencils are having a heyday, in Paris, this year - they’re finally chic! I’ve always been a pencil girl (did I mention typos?). I know everyone says that now but it’s true, I swear. Making the Girl Scout Sign “Agh! I need a pencil,” someone said in class, just yesterday. I pretended not to hear them and griped my #5 mechanical-pencil a little closer and tighter. . . Songs for this: The Spot - Your Smith Decide to be happy - MisterWives . . 🎄🦌 It's that time of year - Here's a Christmas Playlist 🎄🦌 https://daweb.us/xmas/Christmas_16.mp3
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Do you see the boy? Skipping and jumping under the sky? Laughing like he has no fear in the world. Holding hands with air. Do you notice the way he moves? The way his feet jerks and grooves? Moving so unnaturally, Laughing like there's no end in things. Lovely schizophrenia, isn't it? The way it came from his mother? The way he cares for someone else Suffering from the same mental illness. Delusions, fabrications, dreams that is unreal. the way that he perceives the world makes me really feel. Uncomfortable, yet I don't think that he asked me to feel Pity for his condition. Laugh of a thousand children, Asking for a better future, Those ones that seek the asylum, And look forward for capture.
0
Sep 9, 2019
Sep 9, 2019 at 9:20 AM UTC
uTheAseanWriter
Laugh
Do you see the boy? Skipping and jumping under the sky? Laughing like he has no fear in the world. Holding hands with air. Do you notice the way he moves? The way his feet jerks and grooves? Moving so unnaturally, Laughing like there's no end in things. Lovely schizophrenia, isn't it? The way it came from his mother? The way he cares for someone else Suffering from the same mental illness. Delusions, fabrications, dreams that is unreal. the way that he perceives the world makes me really feel. Uncomfortable, yet I don't think that he asked me to feel Pity for his condition. Laugh of a thousand children, Asking for a better future, Those ones that seek the asylum, And look forward for capture.
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