This is the way the world ends

The name's Caroline. Nineteen years old. Lover of tattoos, dogs, fashion, and carbs.

Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky,
Like a patient etherised upon a table.


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I have to come up with three story ideas for my reporting class before Wednesday, post them on the course blog, and comment on the ideas of two of my classmates.  I have no fucking clue what to write about.  I was thinking maybe write about how many students actually use the birth control available on campus?  I dunno.  Nothing ever happens at my school, so I can’t very well write “This just in:  most of the people who go here have about two brain cells and really don’t need to go to college because their parents are billionaires!”

  4:54 pm  |   January 23 2012  

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