hey
Just finished reading OGC part 11b. I seriously haven’t cried this hard in over 2 years.
My shirt is completely soaked with tears and I want to die. Seriously. Life, man. It’s so fucking depressing.
Reblog this post if after the Game of Thrones season finale tomorrow night you will literally throw yourself onto your bed, climb under your covers, and hibernate until season three starts next spring because there’s no point in being an active member of society if you don’t get to watch a new episode of game of thrones every sunday.
No. This is just… no. Either she needs to stop getting hot or time needs to go faster because that is just… ILLEGAL! SO ILLEGAL. I CAN’T.
Oh dear fucking god. Interlude 2 is just gonna be the same heart wrenching emotional torture that was part 9 but from another POV, isn’t it?! ISN’T IT?! OH GOD, I CAN’T TAKE IT! IT’S TOO MUCH!
“Do I get stress headaches at work? Yes, definitely. From the moment I get in, it’s “Denise we need this! Denise we need that!” Which is stressful… ‘cause my name is Linda. Denise is the other black woman that works here. By 10am, someone in the copy room makes a joke about Kobe Bryant, and everyone looks at me to make sure it’s ok. And I smile like it’s ok. But really, my head and neck are starting to throb. Then I spend the rest of my afternoon training my interns, and answering their questions, like, “Yes, black people use shampoo”, and, “No, I don’t know any good reggae clubs around here”, and, “Yes, Condoleezza Rice is very articulate, why do you sound so surprised?” And, “No, I can’t tell you where to buy weed!” And that’s when I reach for Excedrin.”
