Travisty 4 (#69)

#4

TR AVISTY E X C L U S I V E

CRUSH THE SABOTEURS! Henley Smith calls snap election

floreat pica

A Letter from the Editors

M

uch much has happened in the brief period for which Travisty has been away, and here in the editors’ room at 3am, as we sit taking recreational drugs, we hope we can do it justice. Snap elections!

Coyotes on the backs!

Eurovision! Each event more worrysome and sobering than the last.

So if you are sitting in brunch today, recovering from the night before the morning after, brace yourself. It’s not all fun and games anymore, kids.

Well, some of it is: find your games on p. 9, where the fun nears its middle.

But the rest of this issue is a hard-hitting commentary on the important things: elections, the state of the college, fertility festivals, and your ever-important horoscopes. To name but a few things.

And most importantly, as we near the general election in three weeks time, Travisty urges you to register if you haven’t already, and then get out to vote on June 8th, whatever your political allegiances.

We’re not running so we can’t be offended.

Love and trust,

Kate and Jovan

One Liners

This Week’s Contributors Kitty Pfeffer, Editor

Recently liberated from her PhD, Kitty can be found loitering around staircases in Great Court in an attempt to fill the void left by the college cats.

Jovan Powar, Editor

His hair’s not as long anymore but it’s still impressive.

Mina Frost, Ethics Editor

Not actually a babushka, but do ask about her samovar.

Keeps the Editors in line and proof-read this whole issue, any complaints to her please.

Edith Franklin, Mystic

Disappeared for mysterious reasons. Maybe she saw something...

Muhammad Manji

An aspiring DJ, Manji is now toilet trained.

Tom Rychlik

Sleeping with an Editor.

Our favourite things about Easter Term

Kitty: Sneaking into the Wren and hiding there for days on end.

Eating Jovan: takeaway food on the steps of the fountain.

Tom: I don’t even go here anymore, I’m free! FREE! Leave me alone, I have to get up early for work.

Mina: I can justify my crying with hayfever.

Muhammad: My favourite thing about Easter term is that if you fall into the Cam you’re less likely to die of hypothermia.

The Edith: fortuitous gang of donuts that appear daily in Nevile’s Court. I gladly heed their beckoning to loiter.

Outtakes from the recently published anthology Trinity Poets

R

ecently, there was published an anthology of poems written by illustrious and talented Trinity alumni through the ages.

Great poets such as Byron and other people probably also. Unfortunately, as in any published book of verse, some excellent stanzas were left on the cutting room floor. Luckily, Travisty has been living on that floor while it works some stuff out with its boyfriend, and so can share some of the choicest poems that never made it in.

The shopping basket of Edison Ragrami Ready meal for one: £3.50 Two Strawberry Cornettos: £2.00 Plastic bag: £0.05 — Kate Pfeffer matric. 2010

Untitled You’re invited to a CUCA punt, Bring along another

A Limerick There was a young girl called Amanda Who couldn’t keep hold of her stanzas She’d say them aloud Then write them all down But they’d always come out A line longer than she had planned them

Void of the ecstasies of Art It were in life to have lain by thee, And felt thy kisses rain on me, And the hot beating of thy heart,

Contents

My nostrils sniff the luxury Of flesh decaying, bowels torn Of festive worms, like Venus, born Of entrails foaming like the sea.

cover story

El Presidente Kitty Pfeffer

2

Trinity Poets

3

Jovan Powar

Kitty Pfeffer

4

Travisty Writers

4

Muhammad Manji

6

Travisty Writers

8

Mina Frost

8

Muhammad Manji

No one can tell me, Nobody knows, Where the wind comes from, Where the wind goes https://www.wikipedia.com/wind/ — A.A. Milne and a modern Trinitarian

A Limerick There was a young woman from Spain, Who liked to have sex on a train.

Not once I maintain, But again and again, But again and again and again.

Letter from the Editors poetry

Outtakes cocktail of the week Douze Points fake news

While We’ve Been Away fiction

The Wolverine list

Reasons that woman is crying in the library Manifesto: Gemma Nybroc for TCSU President

person of your choice.

Conversation with Milne

Necrophilia

infographic

Tom Rychlik

9

Flowchart not Flowchart

Kitty Pfeffer

10

Fertility Rites

Mina Frost

11

What’s on in Cambridge

Edith Franklin

12

horoscopes

Travisty Writers

12

one-liners

When thy warm sweat should leave me cold, And my worn soul find out no bliss In the obscenities I kiss, And the things shameful that I hold.

Yea, thou art dead. Thy buttocks now Are swan-soft, and thou sweatest not; And hast a strange desire begot In me, to lick thy bloody brow; To gnaw thy hollow cheeks, and pull Thy lustful tongue from out its sheath; To wallow in the bowels of death, And rip thy belly, and fill full My hands with all putridities; To chew thy dainty testicles; To revel with the worms in Hell’s Delight in such obscenities; To pour within thine heart the seed Mingled with poisonous discharge From a swollen gland, inflamed and large With gonorrhoea’s delicious breed; To probe thy belly, and to drink The godless fluids, and the pool Of rank putrescence from the stool Thy hanged corpse gave, whose luscious stink Excites these songs sublime. The rod Gains new desire; dive, howl, cling, suck, Rave, shreik, and chew; excite the fuck, Hold me, I come! I’m dead! My God! — Aleister Crowley matric. 1895

Ed Balls Epigram for Viscount Castlereagh Posterity will ne’er survey, a Nobler grave than this: Here lie the bones of Castlereagh: Stop, traveller, and p-----!

— Lord Byron matric.1805

Ed Balls — Everyone in college last week

Untitled

Little dog, Crossing street, Motor car, Sausage meat.

— anonymous

STUDENT STUDIES LESS THAN 26 HOURS A DAY

L

ast night the College Library was rocked by scandal as Cynthia Turnover, a second-year art historian, picked up her books to leave a mere four hours after she had sat down.

“You’re leaving!?” asked a nearby engineer, tears in his eyes, at first from fatigue, now from despair at the prospect of losing one of his comrades and sources of strength.

Interview: RON feeling confident about snap election

“Yes, I’ve been in here 18 hours today, I’m going to get some sleep.” declared Cynthia, too loudly for her own good.

The uncomfortable silence of the library was broken by a typhoon of gasps. Whispers abounded, “she’s only doing 18 hours”, “is that even a real degree then”, “I heard there are leaves on the trees outside!”

Cynthia has been called in to speak to the Dean about her troubling behaviour.

College Cancels Exams ‘It’s ok guys, just enjoy this term!’

W

L

When asked his opinion of the incumbent president’s policies, RON was suprisingly effusive.

Moved by the plight of the youngsters who call him patron, the Master threw his hands in the air, summoning a magical arrow. Upon it he wrote a decree: “In the year of our Lord 2017, students at Trinity College will be exempt from examinations for the Tripos!”

run.

ith the announcement of a TCSU snap election, Travisty spoke to perennial presidential hopeful, RON, about his

“This is my year, I can feel it!” RON told us, his face masked and voice muffled by a paper bag with a question mark scrawled on it. “Henley Smith won’t keep me out of office for long!”

“Oh, I really do love TCSU+, and I’m really looking forward to using it as an excuse not to do any work myself! And the JCR renovation looks great, I do miss the pool table. I reckon he’ll win re-election.

But with the stress of the election he’ll probably forget to revise, and I’ll be able to contest next term’s by-election with my face fresh in Trinity’s mind!”

cocktail of the week Douze Points An assault to the liver to go with the one last night on the senses

Method:

Slowly slosh together ingredients one at a time. Change costume. Serve with love and peace.

4

ooking out at the sun-bathed Fountain one morning last week, the Master was struck by the beauty of Cambridge in the summer, and happiness filled his heart. This happiness soon gave way to empathic despair as he thought of the tens of thousands of Trinitarians (90% of them mathmos) who would not be able to enjoy the College’s idyllic setting until midJune.

In a flurry of movement, the arrow swirled about the Master and multiplied, and the many decrees soared into the air and through Cambridge, to arrive on the desk of Tutors and Proctors alike.”

“Damn it feels good to be the Master!” he declared.

Ingredients

French Absinthe (1 part) Irish Guinness (1 part) Italian Limoncello (1 part) Portuguese Port (1 part) Spanish Sangria (1 part) Greek Ouzo (1 part)

Danish Gammel Dansk (1 part) Ukranian Vodka (1 part) Norwegian Aquavit (1 part) Dutch Advocaat (1 part) Australian Fosters (1 part) Edible glitter (11 parts)

TRAVISTY

Wildly successful Fyre Festival plans second run at St John’s

H

ot off the back of a notoriously successful island experience, Ja Rule has announced plans to hold a second Fyre Festival next year in Cambridge, on the backs of St John’s College. A spokesman for Mr Rule cited the unique culture and economic demographic of John’s as factors in the choice.

“Fyre is committed to providing high-end, luxury experiences for the aspirational, and you don’t get any more deep pocketed and vain—sorry, aspirational—than students at St John’s College,

fake news

While we’ve been away...

Cambridge.”

The brand has noted that it will need to find alternative spokespeople and brands to appeal to the Johnians.

“Obviously Princess Beatrice would have more sway with our target audience than Kendall Jenner this time. Instead of Adidas we’ll use—who makes signet rings?”

The spokesperson said the festival is slated to coincide with Strawberries and Creem.

“While the rabble’s away, you know!”

— travisty exclusive —

Trinity

investments revealed: 30% stake in ACME prompts calls to divest In light of the recent appearance of rogue coyotes (/wolverines/misc evil and aggressive creatures) on the backs, Travisty has discovered the Trinity has recently acquired a large stake in ACME corps, known for their falling pianos, sticks of dynamite and other instruments of peril.

now?’ asked one peculiarly two dimensional undergraduate ‘Who’s to say that they won’t try to use these weapons to encourage those who’ve been slacking this term? We all saw what happened to Roger Rabbit!

new acquisition. What use might Trinity have for the corporations Giant Rubber Bands and mail order catalogues? Upon being asked for comment, a lone road runner responded with ‘meep meep’ and fled across the backs.

In other news, see Hugh Jackman’s Travisty agrees with these fears, and asks what Wil. E. Winter disappointment for missing out on ‘How can we trust the college might have been thinking with this the role of a lifetime!

Theresa May threatens we’ll stay in Eurovision

T

heresa May announced at an impromptu press conference in a Gregg’s this morning that Britain might not pull out of Eurovision if Brexit deals fall through.

“I am committed to ensuring we get a strong and stable Brexit for the people of the United Kingdom, and that includes renegotiating the terms of our entry into Eurovision.” The Prime Minister then looked around, cautiously, at the displayed goods in the shop.

Sunday 14 May 2017

“I’m sure the ordinary working families that come to places like this, Gregory’s Bakery, would rather see the millions we put into staging a song contest go towards buying new computers for the NHS.” The move has been lauded. “I was beginning to worry we wouldn’t have any bargaining chips other than closing all the Polski Skleps in town. Are there any sausage rolls left?” said one punter.

5

fiction

The Wolverine

by Muhammad Manji

I

t was a cold, windy summer night. Under the shadow of the Wren library there was an unearthly mist, rising above her waist and swirling round her shoulders. She was rooted to the spot, listening to the distant hum of civilisation and the steady flow of the Cam, holding her breath.

And there it was again! A deep rumbling sound, rustling footsteps approaching behind her. She spun around and shouted, “Who’s there?”.

The silence intensified. Panicking, she bolted towards the gate to New Court, fumbled for her wallet to retrieve her Cam card and dropped it. “Fuck,” she muttered to herself, scouring the ground for her last hope to get past that damned Salto lock before she heard it again; a thundering growl, heavy breathing down her neck.

to try and drown out the despair in having to walk to Sidge at such an unreasonable hour. But as she turned out of New Court she saw a crowd gathering. ‘Fucking tourists,’ she thought, attempting to weave in and out of the gathering flock. But curiosity prevailed and she decided to push her way to the front. It was then that she realised something was wrong.

She turned around to see a pair of menacing glowing red eyes, the shadow of a monster towering above her. Backing up against the gate, trembling, she saw it step out of the shadow and into the dimly lit opening. It was a formidable beast, designed to do one thing - slaughter its prey. It raised its claws towards her, advancing, and she screamed.

There was a body on the backs, lying outstretched. A mixture of shock and dread overcame her and she crawled under the police barrier and ran to the scene. There was blood everywhere, the scholar’s lawn stained red. Standing over the body was a statue of a wolverine, guarding its kill from potential scavengers. There was something strangely real about the statue, its sculptured snarl inviting her to edge closer and fall into its trap, its teeth dripping with fresh blood. This was no accident; the corpse was mutilated, fragments of clothing and internal organs lay everywhere.

A porter rushed to hold her back as she tried to get a glimpse of the victim’s cold, lifeless eyes. She could have sworn she’d seen them before.

In the mirror that morning.

She scrambled across her pillow to switch off the alarm. After mustering enough courage to get out of bed she started her morning routine and next thing she knew she was well on her way to lectures, headphones blaring 80s hip hop

A sense of hopelessness overcame her. She collapsed to her knees and threw up. Struggling to make sense of things, she curled up into a ball and tried to calm herself down by the slippery bank of the Cam. What kind of monster did that? Was she

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

6

They were her eyes.

even alive? The only thing she knew for certain was that she wasn’t making lectures that day.

—————————

A few hours later she found herself in the supernatural section of the University Library, flicking through textbook after textbook about black magic rituals involving sacrificing goats, children, supervision partners, the lot. ‘There must be something here about watching yourself die’ she thought to herself, conscious that she was probably just going crazy. Yet the image of the wolverine was stuck in her head, it’s sinister smile sending chills down her spine. She shivered and continued her search.

After what seemed like a few hours of searching (because it actually was a few hours of searching) she finally came across something useful:

THE CURSE OF THE WOLVERINE In

the early stages of the

creation of the

Universe,

there was a battle between celestial

When

Good

and

Evil.

Good ultimately triumphed, the Evil army was imprisoned in the strongest forthold that find —Hell.

God Yet

could

minions of evil escaped.

four

T he

most elusive of these is the

Wolverine.

TRAVISTY

‘Sounds like horse shit,’ she thought. She turned the dusty book over to try and see when it was written and who by but the battered spine was unrevealing. Flicking over a few pages, she carried on reading;

sexism to me.’ And she was right, it all seemed like something made up in a book by a raving mad bloke a long time ago. Who would possibly believe something like that?

Every Wolverine

Nonetheless, she found herself waiting on the backs at 10pm with a knife stolen from the kitchens and a litre bottle of discounted Russian Standard hidden in her bag, desperately trying to avoid eye contact with the porter lingering nearby. Once the porter left his shift she doused the blade and all her clothes with the Russian Standard and was on the alert. The body had been moved from the crime scene but the statue was still there, grinning sadistically as usual. She approached it carefully, and nothing happened. Slowly, she extended her hand and touched it. It was made of plastic and she could hear a hollow thud as she punched it to double check. She almost laughed; ‘Ha! Knew there was nothing to be worried about,’ the voice inside her head told her.

century

the

awakes from his

deep slumber and surfaces to feed.

T he

Wolverine

diet of the

is

fresh

blood

from any and every source possible.

After

wiping out

the entire local population the

Wolverine

will go back

to its cursed depths. is only one way to

T here end this.

After

you have been killed

have

gained

by the

Wolverine

you will

some

of

its

immortality but this is only temporary.

You

must kill it

between midnight and sunrise on the first day of your new life. Otherwise it will be too late, your life will disappear into

the

celestial

realm.

—————————

Then in a flash the wolverine spun

T here is only one way to kill and turned upon her and growled. the Wolverine —to pierce its She shrieked and batted it away heart with a blade dipped in vodka.

Anything else will be

insufficient and you will be killed again and this time it will be permanent.

‘Hmm, none of this makes much sense,’ a voice in the back of her head said. ‘It’s an awfully geocentric view of creation and I don’t think the author has grasped the concept of immortality. Also it mentions that the wolverine is a he, why would a unique celestial being be assigned a gender? Sounds like dark ages

Sunday 14 May 2017

with her Russian Standard bottle and it fled into the distance. ‘That didn’t seem that bad,’ she thought, feeling awfully proud of herself and taking a well-deserved swig. She peered into the distance to where it had fled and saw the figure of a man walking towards her. “Help! I need help!” she shouted in his direction, to no reply. The figure kept moving towards her at a concerning pace.

She gulped, tightened her grip on the knife in her pocket and waited.

A few seconds later the mysterious man stepped out of the shadow and

into the dimly lit opening and she couldn’t believe her eyes. It was Hugh Jackman!

“Oh my gosh! You’re not at all who I expected to see here, you are Hugh Jackman aren’t you?”. He was indeed Hugh Jackman but he said nothing and instead stared at her with a disconcerting intensity. She let her gaze drift down over his muscular, toned, unclothed body and stifled a giggle. “Would it be alright if I could have an autograph?” she asked, holding out a pen and small notepad she found in her bag.

He raised his hand as if to take the pen but instead extended metal claws from his knuckles and swiped at her from point blank range. She screamed, suddenly covered in blood, and tried to pick herself up and run but it was no use. He was there in front of her and skewered her with those sharp claws, piercing her lungs and her heart. She let out an empty gasp, struggling to hold on to whatever life she had left. He raised his other hand near her face and she heard a menacing clink.

She closed her eyes, praying.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

She bolted upright, sweating, and frantically surveyed her surroundings. She was in her room, unhurt. Strange, it all felt so real.

Then she had a sudden realisation.

The statues on the backs are coyotes, not wolverines! At peace, she drifted back to sleep.

Moral of the story – don’t do drugs, kids.

A collection of Muhammad Manji’s short stories is now available from occult bookstores and random tat shops everywhere

7

***GEMMA NYBROC FOR KTCSU PRESIDENT*** No more room ballot!

Free food for everyone!

Students can stay wherever they want in college, all locks shall be removed.

There is no ethical consumption under late capitalism.

Remember comrades, all private property is theft!

Abolish black tie and gowns!

Down with the materialistic bourgeoisie!!!

Open the wine cellars to the public!

There shall be no end to the oppression unless we rise and seize the means of production.

Replace Newton’s statue with Marx!

End the use of lawnmowers!

We must have better role models for the youth.

Our college has been overrun by capitalist machinery for too long!

Paint Great Gate red with the blood of the bourgeoise!

(AKA John’s)

No more rigged elections!

A stalwart of the free market, democracy has been tainted by the profit motive and the proletariat blinded by false candidates.

We must put an end to all elections and let our student union be run under the name of His Majesty the Bird.

We must end the use of lawnmowers and return to the use of sickles for all gardening purposes.

Ban jewellery in college!

The proletariat have nothing to lose but their chains!

For too long we have suffered under corrupt leaders and a feudal system for the few, not the many.

We say, enough is enough!

Vote Gemma for a fairer trinity

what’s on in cambridge Staying happy and healthy Mina’s Easter Term recommendations for keeping healthy, mind and body. Go on, leave the library, it’ll do you good.

Brunch Every Sunday

It’s a nice walk to hall so you can fit in some exercise, and even though social interaction isn’t ideal, the waffles are totally worth it. Plus you can pick up this week’s issue of Travisty, so what’s not to love!

TCSU Open Meeting Winstanley, Thursday 18th 8pm

If you’re feeling a tad more adventurous, you could venture out to Winstanley Lecture Hall on Thursday the 18th of May at 8pm, for TCSU’s Easter term open meeting (with FREE PIZZA)! This is an opportunity to get involved in college life, but also to get free pizza, and to hear about what TCSU have been up to so far. Oh, and did I mention free pizza?

Cambridge Shorts ADC, Saturday 20th 11pm

If what you want is to step out of your comfort zone, then head down the street (mad, I know) to the ADC on May 20th at 11pm for a new edition of Cambridge Shorts!

There are some talented people out there folks, you don’t want to miss out. Quick tip: ditch the preppy shirts and jumpers, and don your waviest garms to blend in with the humanities crowd.

Mina’s top pick: Going to your nearest coffee shop, ordering your favourite drink, taking out your laptop and typing furiously whilst frowning and pulling your best focused face. The only requirement is that nothing productive should be achieved. Easy right? Enjoy the looks of awe from passers-by as they admire how on top of things you are, whilst relishing in the machiavelic trick you’re playing. If you’re lucky, someone might write a Crushbridge about you.

10

TRAVISTY

Fertility Rites And if the regular Cambridge activities don’t float your boat, Kate Pfeffer puts a spiritual twist on the term

May Day 1st May An ancient European fertility festival, traditionally celebrated by tying ribbons around giant phallic representations (nothing new to a Trinity student), bathing in May dew - as Catherine of Aragon was reputed to do with 12 ladies in waiting - and wearing of the green.

Caesarian Sunday 2nd May A less ancient Cantabrigian fertility festival, also celebrated near The Maypole. Like its namesake, Caesarian Sunday is an often bloody operation which delves deep into your insides and pulls out your inner child: mewling, squawling and puking.

The Cambridge Union Garden Party Sometime in Your Mid-Forties The better behaved elderly brother of Suicide Sunday. Won’t get you out of your sun-dress, but maybe he’ll allow you to loosen his tie very slightly when student politics gets him all riled up.

Singing From the Towers 11th June Like that bit in Planet Earth II where the frogs try and inflate their neck pouches and ribbit really loudly to get the lady frogs. Similarly, the choir also leave a bad taste in your mouth, and my cat tries to bring one in from time to time.

May Ball 19th June Some birds put on their brightest colours to attract a mate. Some like to be ‘alternative’ and wear jump suits.

Blame those people for the queues in the women’s loos.

Summer Solstice July 21st A festival in which you and your loved one are meant to jump over a bonfire to promote ‘fertility’. Which is apparently aided by scorched testicles. Who knew?

Sunday 14 May 2017

11

And now, the end is near;

horoscopes

And so I face the final curtain.

Disquietedith

My friend, I’ll say it clear,

I’ll state my case, of which I’m certain:

Aries Taurus Gemini Cancer Leo Virgo Libra

Scorpio Sagittarius Capricorn Aquarius

So the last shall be first, and the first last: for many be called, but few chosen. You heard it here… first.

Dance like no one’s watching. It’s much funnier for me that way.

The eclipse of the sun foresheweth that many shall go soberer into taverns than they shall come out: and that he which drinks hard and lies cold, shall never die of the sweat; although Gemini, combust and retrograde, sheweth that some shall have so sore a sweating that they may sell their hair by the pound to stuff tennis balls. Although very few other effects are to be prognosticated, yet let me give this caveat to my countrymen, as a clause to this wonderful eclipse: tbc.

You are a star! *elevator music* Speak what you feel, not what you ought to say. (But within reason, for goodness sakes what are people like.)

You loathe conflicts and your cleverness and your flexibility allow you to achieve your goals while shrewdly worming your way through difficulties. Your intuition and your imagination are the assets that compensate your lack of efficiency and discipline. You are much more successful when you work for a noble cause, usually a collective one, sometimes political or spiritual ones. On the sexual plane, you are whimsical and impossible to categorise. You are so changing and malleable that you can shift from one extreme to another, according to your partner’s personality, because your adaptability and your flexibility are really strong. Conclusion: this text is only an excerpt from of Theresa May’s portrait. We hope that it will arouse your curiosity, and that it will prompt you to deepen your knowledge of astrology, as well as to visit and use the wide range of free applications at www.astrotheme.com. n.b. I have shared this horoscope to show that there are many charlatans in my industry and that you should count yourself lucky to have an astrologer who only deals in hard facts and would never manipulate her platform for political gain.

Kanye West really put his finger on something when he said “I wouldn’t want a book’s autograph.” The stars can confirm that no books have ever made it to outer space, unlike George Clooney – who’s still floating around out there since that mishap in the film Gravity. The stars urge you to wax your shine, even amidst the torrent of books. No one likes a know it all, but everyone loves a diva.

Sticks and stones may break your bones, but words can never hurt you.

*Imagine* Zoom into you reading Travesty at brunch – zoom out to space – zoom into spaceship orbiting Earth – zoom into the Master, reposed in spaceship, reading Travesty – zoom into Master’s copy of Travesty – zoom into horoscope description of you reading Travesty at brunch – zoom out to Master’s rage at blasphemous accusation of being an alien – zoom out to spaceship’s poised missile launcher – zoom into you reading Travesty at brunch, worrying about your exams.

(The stars have disclosed to me troubling sightings of the Master in outer space, colluding with what the stars generously refer to as ‘cosmic trash’. If you see any suspicious extra-terrestrial behaviour do not hesitate to report to the porters).

You are a poet and you didn’t even know it! But the stars did! Here’s one you wrote soon: “Mark your arrival bicycle bell

student crime library fine

Strolling on the common

punts stretch out like swans

rowing rivers of opportunity education celebration

Grade 1 listed buildings sky high college ceiling of philosophy thinking

Bridge of sighs, never lies.”

How lovely.

Pisces 12

You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is, even if we’re apart... I’ll always be with you. Scary isn’t it.

TRAVISTY