Patsy Mc Cartan

i'm patsy, as most of you will probably already know. i'm the type of girl that burns test-tube shaped holes through her uniform while conducting the safest chemistry experiments possible, and thus, walks around school with a bullet shaped wound in her jumper. i enjoy singing, immensely in fact! i'm known to phone people at sleepovers, and usually at inconvinient hours; serenading unhappy people with fleetwood mac. hopefully one day it's a talent scout, and not angry people being awoken from precious slumber. i play guitar, that's something i enjoy too. thinking about Paris just makes me so happy! one day i'm going to pack my life up and just jet off, honestly. i am not living here in depressing Belfast. that's me really, and if you want to know anything else; make the effort


"First they had a few round of trente-et-un; then Monsieur Homais would play ecarte with Emma; Leon, standing behind her, gave his advice. Standing with his hands on the back of her chair, he gazed at the teeth of the comb thrust into the coils of her hair. Every time she reached out to play a card, it lifted her dress on the right side. From the coiled mass of her hair, shades of brown flowed down her back, until, fading away gradually, they ended in shadow. Her dress, as she sat back again, spilled over both sides of her chair, in ample swelling folds, that reached right down to the floor. When Leon sometimes felt it under the sole of his boot, he stepped backwards, as though he had tread on something living.

Madame Bovary was compromising herself."





"Her heart was not in the rebuke."


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