Is it better now?
Yes it is Don’t reveal my name I try to remain anonymous on here
I deleted the one with your name. And it is not. That’s silly. Why can I never get an answer out of you? :P
I think this is how to reply to something?
daugteroftheriversong replied to your post: I can’t believe I’m actually posting something.
I’ll watch doctor who with you. :)
Could we cuddle? <:D
My Doctor Who moment
So today I was sitting in English class and i swear to god I heard the TARDIS
the TARDIS
I got up and asked to go to the bathroom and tried to follow the sound
I followed it to the class two doors down did not knock and walked in
They were watching Doctor Who and one guy at the back yelled
“See Miss! I told you if you didn’t lower it down it would summon the nerds”
Ah, yes. Fandoms. Fandoms tend to do that.
The TARDIS has an impeccable sense of timing, of humour, and of structure. She knows who and where and why and when, and though she has no voice of her own, she is a master of languages.
She keeps them tucked away, far down a corridor or five or six (depending on which way you are going, but always a sharp right past the swimming pool), and behind a great, heavy door. Upon that door is a symbol, a sign, a grouping of words etched in Gallifreyan. A warning? It depends on who you are.
She’ll let you in as long as you are curious.
Behind that door is a secret room, a large room, a beautiful room stacked floor to ceiling with row upon row of card catalogue shelves. Inside each intricate drawer is a language. The card catalogues are tall and they are many, and are crafted of every resource imaginable, depending on the origins of the languages they contain.
This is the room that the TARDIS never translates, where every language is kept in its purest form. The evolution of every Germanic strand, the rise and the death of Latin, the intricacies of Sontaran, Sycorax, Silurian. Every language lost to time, every language yet to be spoken, every cave drawing of every creature that had a story to tell.
Everything as it is meant to be heard, as it is meant to be written, whispering always to the TARDIS: forever learning, and forever teaching.
The only language unlisted, unmentionable, unspeakable, is the language of the Silence. Silence, you see, is the end of all communication.
Which may be the reason why the warning on the door reads, “Please speak up.”
What room do you think would exist in the TARDIS? Write it, draw it, build it. Tag your post ‘My TARDIS’. We want to see.
That’s great
Beautiful.
My Wedding Speech (by Tom Fletcher)
I am crying. Yup. :’>
