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Young Writers Society


ItsRainbowInked

About ItsRainbowInked

I am merely seeking for freedom, acceptance, and to let my mind roam, destroy, and create whatever it is that is resting in my brain at the moment.

15. Pansexual. Female. Vietnamese-American.

Still breathing.


Interests

Mainly all genres, learning, and figuring out this complex navigation in life. I love macabre and folklore, all literature/art and the related in between. Drawing is usually my domain but I have on-and-off moments between such a thing with writing, and vice-versa. So you'll be seeing me for a while.

Occupation

Student, at the moment anyway. Hopefully, a writer or an artist in the later future. Planning to be a psychologist.

Website

http://callipygia.tumblr.com/


It had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny yellow brass knob in the exact middle. The door opened on to a tube-shaped hall like a tunnel: a very comfortable tunnel without smoke, with panelled walls, and floors tiled and carpeted, provided with polished chairs, and lots and lots of pegs for hats and coats—the hobbit was fond of visitors. The tunnel wound on and on, going fairly but not quite straight into the side of the hill —The Hill, as all the people for many miles round called it—and many little round doors opened out of it, first on one side and then on another.
— JRR Tolkien