I Am Fortune's Fool
21. Yale. Studying abroad at Trinity. Queer.
This blog is a chronicle of things that capture my interest, spark my imagination, and occasionally make me laugh.
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a drake-themed party where we listen to drake and watch old episodes of degrassi and play musical chairs to “anaconda” but most importantly we just act very kind to each other in a way that is sometimes almost weird

(via guacamolebeautyqueen)



(Source: meanplastic, via bdnocampo)


and, if you can’t get toasted pearl Couscous handpicked and blessed by a Moroccan shaman on the first tuesday of the winter harvest for your Sautéed Escarole then store bought is fine


(via best-of-tumblr)


shoutout to the friends that still like me

all two of you

(via paulinasayz)


whats the meaning of life? son, its those little tiny pumpkins. the ones that are mad small.  you know the ones i mean. 

(Source: mattressblowoutsale, via hopefullbuthopelesss)

update the giant spider moved onto my lamp and i can now not turn it off to go to bed…. 

Thoughts while packing for senior year at Yale

So…. the general feeling I have is that I’m going to vomit. This could be caused by eating too much vegan mac n cheese or because of the sheer number of thoughts racing through my head.

Excited to see everyone but I also hate people so that’ll be awkward. Also can’t wait to meet with my thesis advisor and smell some old manuscripts but I really want to hug my boyfriend and smell him instead of a book but oops he’s in Ireland so I can’t do that til Christmas. Had so much crazy crap happen to me over this past year that it’s going to be hard to convey that to people.

Who knows, I mean there’s a giant spider near my suitcase so if it’s still there in the morning than I’m not going to be able to leave for school anyway and I’ll be forced to stay in bed for the rest of my life. 


can the united states just chill for one day

(Source: 0jr, via hopefullbuthopelesss)

Neil Gaiman, from “Murder Mysteries”

From Smoke and Mirrors: Short Fictions and Illusions

(via liquidnight)

(via liquidnight)

If it’s true that every seven years each cell in your body dies and is replaced, then I have truly inherited my life from a dead man; and the misdeeds of those times have been forgiven, and are buried with his bones.


It’s 1am and I have no desire to sleep or stay awake. 

(via would-you-hold-me)

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