This song is ending. But the story never ends.

Hi, I'm Amanda. Musician.
♥ ΣAI- Delta Phi Chapter ♥
Nerdfighter. Whovian. If you want to know anything else, my ask box is waiting.

Vita brevis, ars longa.
Reblogged from lastofthetimeladies  9,093 notes

Your voice sounds completely different in different languages. It alters your personality somehow. I don’t think people get the same feeling from you. The rhythm changes. Because the rhythm of the language is different, it changes your inner rhythm and that changes how you process everything.

When I hear myself speak French, I look at myself differently. Certain aspects will feel closer to the way I feel or the way I am and others won’t. I like that—to tour different sides of yourself. I often find when looking at people who are comfortable in many languages, they’re more comfortable talking about emotional stuff in a certain language or political stuff in another and that’s really interesting, how people relate to those languages. By Francois Arnaud for Interview Magazine (via iraplastic)

I just need to vent for a moment…

I hate lupus. Hate it hate it hate it. I know there are others out there who have it worse than I do. Or maybe it’s the fact that I’m still in my first few months of being sick. But I can’t deal with this. I can’t. I want to be healthy again. I haven’t been healthy in 3 months. I haven’t been able to eat in 3 days. These awful, disgusting, painful sores infest my mouth a few times a month and cause so much damage that I can’t brush my teeth without being in excruciating pain. I can’t be my “normal” self anymore. Gone are the days when I was filled with energy, when I was rarely seen without a smile. Now, I snap at my family for being there. I’m so tired. So. Tired. Of feeling sick. Of being in pain. Of being grumpy. Of feeling like a hollow shell of myself. Of crying almost every day because I realize I can’t do a simple task anymore.

I think I miss playing the piano the most.