Tumblr community, I am asking for your help. If you could please reblog or like this post, it would mean more than you know, but let me explain:
I was accepted into my dream university just a few months ago but was unable to afford the tuition. Next fall, I will be attending a local college instead, but I can’t imagine giving up on what I’ve worked for since elementary school. I will be reapplying to my dream school next year with the hopes of getting accepted again and with a scholarship and more money in my pocket.
To pay for college, I have created an online shop. It sells not only my art prints but also apparel, stationery, bags, home decor, and more with my designs printed on them. I just posted my artwork today, but I will be adding more designs and products soon and I will be taking design requests! I know that money isn’t so easy to come by, and really, reblogging or liking this post would help tremendously, but if you would like to browse through the few designs currently posted or to purchase from the site, you can click here to be directed to my shop (click on a portfolio, a design, and then a product): https://www.redbubble.com/people/thecarination?asc=u
Sometime after Rachel Scott died, her father, Darrell Scott, received a telephone call from a stranger in Ohio. The man told Darrell “You’ll probably think I’m crazy when I tell you why I called, but I have had a recurring dream about your daughter.”
In his dream, the man said, he had seen a stream of tears flowing from Rachel’s eyes, and they were watering something, but he couldn’t see what it was.
Would that mean anything to him or his family, the man asked.
No, Darrell said, it didn’t mean a thing. But he took down the man’s number and promised to call if it ever did mean anything.
Darrell had forgotten about the strange message until seven days later when he got a call from the sheriff’s office telling him he could pick up the contents of his daughter’s school backpack, which had been riddled by bullets.
Sitting in his truck, Darrell sorted through Rachel’s belongings and read through her final diary. When he got to the last page, there was a picture Rachel had drawn the morning she was murdered (pictured above). It was of a pair of eyes crying, and the 13 tears turned to drops of blood as they watered a rose that grew out of a Columbine plant.
Thirteen was the number of victims that Harris and Klebold killed that day before taking their own lives.
me throwing an imitation dashcon party for my tumblr friends at my apartment
hey guys so uh there are cheeto puffs and uh tv’s on you can change it to whatever uh, i filled up my bath tub with ball pit balls because it’s dashcon haha but uh nobody go in there please. i mean you can go in the bathroom but please stay out of my tub also there’s a few pizzas coming, and the tip is on the counter. He shouldn’t ask for money or anything i paid with the credit card online. My phone number is on the fridge and there’s a lot of sprite in there you’re welcome to. ok! make yourselves at home ok have fun i love you bye!
*takes my house keys and leaves the apartment to run some errands (i dont like parties that much)*