MAYA'S DREAMiNG LAND

Hello and welcome back to the dreary hellscape that is my mind. I'm kidding… mostly. I was looking back at this last year over the break, and I realized that I've barely written on here, oops. Ideally I'd like to post weekly, but I know that that's just not possible considering all the things on my plate at the moment (work, academics - a full course load at that - and some very exciting things that I've been sitting on for months now and I really need to get my act together

Hello curious readers, I've been a bit MIA as of late, sorry. I'm busy writing excruciatingly long essays (annoying as many professors as I can with my endless ability to go over the word count). Not to mention filming (😏😏😏) and recording (eeek!!!) some very exciting things that you don't get to know about yet. Most importantly, however, I've been writing more than ever. I'm talking every waking hour. I get home, and I write. I'm on the train, and I write. It's non-stop, a

I, and likely you as well, have often been asked "what's your favourite book?" Seems simple. A go-to on a first date, while also beloved by socially awkward friends. This usually leaves me, and presumably everyone else who's ever been asked this question, wondering, "what is my favourite book?" I've read books that I've liked, books that I've hated, books I had to write essays on, books I didn't really want to read but read anyways because my friend liked them, or I wanted to