just international student things:

  • teaching each other swear words in your languages
  • trying to learn the unwritten social rules what do you mean you have to take your shoes off inside
  • knowing more people from other countries than the country you’re in
  • “I should come visit you” 
  • how do people not have [food item] in the supermarket??????
  • struggling with the international student office 
  • “lmao why would you come here to study this country sucks” 
  • getting strangely patriotic even though you weren’t before
  • but seriously it’s weird I kinda love my own country more now?
  • having someone come up to you and say “hey I know something in your language!” and it’s a swear word
We should do away with the absolutely specious notion that everybody has to earn a living. It is a fact today that one in ten thousand of us can make a technological breakthrough capable of supporting all the rest. The youth of today are absolutely right in recognizing this nonsense of earning a living. We keep inventing jobs because of this false idea that everybody has to be employed at some kind of drudgery because, according to Malthusian Darwinian theory he must justify his right to exist. So we have inspectors of inspectors and people making instruments for inspectors to inspect inspectors. The true business of people should be to go back to school and think about whatever it was they were thinking about before somebody came along and told them they had to earn a living.
—  Richard Buckminster Fuller aka Bucky Fuller
Bryson Tiller

Bryson Tiller | Exchange 

this what happens when I think about you.
I get in my feelings, yeah.
I start reminiscing, yeah.
next time around,
fuck I want it to be different, yeah
waiting on a sign,
guess it’s time for a different prayer
lord please save her for me,
do this one favor for me
I had to change my player ways,
got way too complicated for me
I hope she’s waiting for me.

IF I COULD FLY: For Your Eyes Only (3K) | BriaMaria

Sleeping was the hardest part of missing Louis.

During the day, Harry could distract himself so that the pain was a dull throb, one he was used to and could tuck away during meetings and studio time and pap walks. At night, when it was just him and the shadows and the moonlight on a half-empty bed, it was harder to pretend it didn’t hurt.

Harry laid an open palm where the boy should be, but wasn’t. His fingers pressed into the cool sheets to find the divots in the mattress and he wished. He wished Louis was there, and he wished life was easier sometimes.

Or, Harry and Louis had never broken the two-week rule before. When they did, we got If I Could Fly and Home.

This is part of the AMAZING Made in the A.M. fic exchange. Please read the rest of them too, they are great!!