so ya’ll probably know that i’m a bookaholic and fangirl. So dedicating my time to things I love doing and studying has been quite a challenge for me. But for this past year i’ve managed to develop a few ways for me to balance my time and thought it’d be nice to share them with you guys! (even though I still procrastinate let’s be real).
1. Pomodoro technique
I’m sure most of you have heard about this. But basically, all you need to do is set a timer for 25-30 minutes and completely focus on a task during that time. Try avoiding distractions such as checking your notifications and such. Once the timer sets off take a 5-10 minute break and continue again. Usually, I'll do this continuously for at least two times. After that, I just spend my time doing the things I love for maybe half an hour or so then get back to work if I have an important quiz or assignment.
2. If you don’t feel like doing it,don’t do it
We all know school can be tough and exhausting sometimes. And there will always be days when you just want to go home and relax. Most of the time, you feel so exhausted that you don’t have the heart to do anything. At all. So if you don’t feel like reading the book you’re currently reading or playing undertale don’t do it. There is no need to force yourself and i’m saying this because I have done this a lot before and I just found myself getting frustrated easily for some reason. As for studying try to cool down a bit and slightly putt off your schedule. Or if you’re not feeling it get lots of rest and wake up early the next day to start working (especially if you have a test the next day)
3.Use a planner or a bullet journal
Many people consider this as the ultimate time management tool ever. It’s just something to manage your time easier with. But if you decide to use a bullet journal it may take a lot of time compared to a planner but hey, your choice.
soo yeah that’s all I could give you. Sorry if it was too short I just thought that if it was super long you guys would get bored easily. Hope this was helpful!
So I sidestep things that remind me of you / the celtics / supernatural / her / that song I was listening to when we were talking last / things like that / so what am I missing? / when will I stop dodging punches you no longer are throwing? / if I get a message past 10:30 I think it’s from you / but it never is anymore / you said you were tired last Friday / remember when we stayed up late talking? / I’ve been trying to forget / I’m sorry for being so direct / but this keeps hurting / long past when the appropriate time to grieve ended.
we won’t talk like this again // we can hardly be friends– lily rain
i haven’t been able to stop thinking about this, so i’m gonna share it with all of you: you know that one au that’s like “your soulmate’s last words are tattooed on your body”?
so my brain took that and said, “okay, but what about that with immortal fake ah crew?”
because, god, i’m just imagining the sheer number of words? ray’s got them sprawling down his sides in neat columns in fine print. geoff has them circling his arms, from his shoulders down to his wrists like tat sleeves. gavin’s got them scattered all over, collarbones and hips and fingers and behind his ears.
some of the words are ridiculous. laughable. “you know what, i think i did forget to pack parachutes.” “fifty bucks says i can make that jump.” michael’s got “oh, fuck me” on his lower back like a tramp stamp and displays it proudly.
others hurt. “go! go, get out, i’ll hold them off.” “fuck, i’m sorry, i’m so sorry.” ryan finds “oh, god, don’t let him see my body like this” and something in his chest aches finely.
jack’s the one who finally makes them all chronicle them, dozens of pictures in a book they all pour over, grimacing and laughing in equal measures.
(“you know, i think most of these are gavin’s.”
“yeah, you could say fucking any of these in a british accent and i’d believe it. fucker dies like three times a day.”
Cursed Child was dumb and here are some reasons why
(warning: spoilers. this probably won’t make sense unless you’ve read the script. far be it from me to recommend this kneazle-vomit of a play, though, so if you haven’t read it, good)
the plot is messy, strange, and childish. there’s only one time-turner left!! how will the characters cope when said time-turner is lost? oh lol they’ll just use this other convenient time-turner. for convenient plot points, see also: harry can suddenly speak parseltongue again, because well he just kind of needs to be able to do that
Harry cursing “oh dumbledore” without a hint of irony. like really? really
the characterisation was a pile of dragon dung and we all freaking know it. let’s break it down into individual characters here because fuck if I can stop at one bullet point for this
Hermione: the brightest witch of her age, the constant crusader for the unloved and the unrepresented, whose successful career and capacity for kindness apparently rest in the hands of her romance with Ron Weasley. oh… but wait. it sounds a little familiar, this story. hear me out. let’s see now, a highly intelligent person who falls in love but doesn’t have that love reciprocated, and who then becomes a really fucking mean teacher at Hogwarts through bitterness. sound like anyone we know? fam, they tried to parallel Hermione and Snape. Hermione and Snape. this being the same Snape who sneered in Hermione’s face when she’d been visibly hexed, and made her cry; the same Snape who bullied Neville Longbottom for years, while Hermione muttered instructions under her breath to help him. if you want to tell me that Hermione would ever allow herself to become a Snape parallel then I will kindly invite you to shove a dirigible plum where there’s no lumos solem
Harry: when Harry was at his angriest in OOTP, and he’s yelling at Ron and Hermione, there’s one thing we notice. everything he yells is true. he means it. he’s bitter about it and he’s loud and furious, but he doesn’t have the kind of anger that just says anything to cause hurt, that speaks without thinking, not even at this crisis point in his life. are you really going to tell me that the boy who knows down to his bones what it’s like to feel rejected, and misunderstood, and alone, would ever say - even in anger - that he wishes Albus wasn’t his son? I am going to snap wands over this
Cedric. and this one burns. because Cedric was brave and he was true, and he had a sense of justice that led him to telling Harry about the way the golden egg worked, and led him to sharing the winning of the triwizard tournament with Harry. he died, he was murdered at the age of seventeen, embodying a sense of justice so strong, an innocence, a goodness. Cedric Diggory - the boy who believed in fairness with an integrity that is astounding - becoming party to the indiscriminate killing and casual torture of the Death Eaters just because he had his head engorged one time… is about as likely as Hagrid stomping on a dragon egg. it’s an insult to who he was and I am going to engorge the entire bodies of the writers of this fucking play so that hopefully they’ll just float away too, with all the grace and likeability of Aunt Marge
Voldemort: can we all agree now that Voldemort would not father a child. the idea of him experiencing lust seems out of character; the idea of him giving into a base urge seems more so. it’s too human, too vulgar, too physical; it would associate him with the common and the mainstream in a way that I contend he would find repulsive. Tom Riddle Sr. was trapped by Merope into sex and romance; to have sex would be to bring himself closer to his parents, down to the level of a Muggle and a witch who lacked power and craved love, two things Voldemort could never, ever stand. no. he wouldn’t have sex just because he wanted to; he’d be repelled by the idea. what other reason could there be for him to do the nasty with Bellatrix? to ensure the continuation of his line? that makes even less sense. achieving immortality for Voldemort was always a question of magic, a personal quest. he wouldn’t go for a messy, physical back-up plan. he always thought that he would win. if anything, he would see a child as a future threat, not a security. another being in the world with the promise of his power? he wouldn’t risk it.
what the fuck was that trolley witch scene though
“for voldemort and valour” are you serious. is there a Gryffindor spy in the Voldemort camp laughing their ass off because they actually managed to get that one through. and are they ten years old
overall, the message of the play infuriated me. Delphi was the child of Voldemort, so she was evil. Albus was the child of Harry, so he was good. Scorpius was the son of Draco, so he should have been evil, but Draco’s actually kind of good now and his mother was nice, so he can be good too. where is the complexity? was five hours of drama not enough to find some shades of morality? where is the hope, where is the resonance, in a story that says that good begets good and evil begets evil, and nothing can really change? the Harry Potter book series was about a boy who grew up with something inside him that was utterly evil, and who rejected it, fought against it, changed the path that fate seemed to wish him to walk. not slytherin, not slytherin. we had Regulus Black and Sirius Black, who rejected their pasts, whose heritage and whose House stood for nothing against their principles, their eventual and separate forms of bravery. we had Remus Lupin, who transformed into a monster but never became one, not even after years of rejection and pain. we had the word mudblood, and we watched Hermione fight it, we knew it was ridiculous to label someone based on their blood. and now… we have the Cursed Child. a playwhich is flat, and stupid, and tells us that your parentage inevitably dictates your character - and that how you’re treated is how you’ll treat others. dear writers, in the words of Albus Dumbledore, you fail to recognise that it matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be. you fucks.
Imagine being Sam's and Dean's little sister and them saving you when you were kidnapped.
Fear. Fear was the only thing that you knew at that moment. With werewolves surrounding you, your heart was racing. Everything seemed loud. Too loud to think. The large group was arguing about something, but the sound of your rushing blood drowned out their words.
“We can’t stay here! The Winchesters are on are backs!” one of the creatures yelled. “This is all your fault!” His finger pointed at an obviously younger boy, but that didn’t mean that he was about to back down.
The young boy only snarled back, “How was I supposed to know she was their little sister!” Large hands gripped the boy’s collar, but before he could continue what would be a fatal fight, the door was kicked open. Flashes of white blinded you, and the sound was enough to make your ears ring.
As your chest continued to tighten, the open fire stopped, the last bullet ringing off the floor before coming to a stop. Dozens of corpses covered the floor before you. Suddenly, you saw the two men that you longed to see all along. Hope was finally restored.
“Y/n,” Sam rushed out before running over to you and cutting the restraints. Your arms automatically wrapped around his neck as he pulled you into his lap and kissed your forehead. “Sh, we’ve got you, sweetie. It’s okay. You’re safe.”
Dean, now calmed to see you safe and alive, looked around the room trying not to break down. He thought he’d lost you like he had many other people he loved, and, to be honest, he didn’t know if he could handle to lose someone else. He began to walk out when your voice echoed through his ears. “Dean?” Small arms wrapped around his torso that caused his skin to rise. “I thought you’d never come.”
“What? Oh, sweetie, don’t ever think that,” Dean sniffled. “I’ll never let anything ever hurt you. Ever. Don’t forget that.”