Brans Life Corner @brokengluewastaken - Tumblr Blog

friends, if I can give you one piece of advice for those of you who are new to work, or are about to enter the workforce, especially if you have any sort of office job:

Do not work on your days off.

"But--"

DO NOT WORK ON YOUR DAYS OFF.

nightmare-from-heaven

Hey. Your brain needs to de-frag. Literally it needs you to sit there and space out.

If you want your memory or executive function to improve, stare out a window at the skyline or sidewalk or trees or birds on the electrical wires for like 20+ minutes per day. (With no other stimulation like a podcast or TV if you can manage but hey baby steps innit). If you're fortunate enough to have safe outside with any bits of nature, go stare closely at a 1 meter square of grass and trip out on the bugs and shapes of grasses and stuff.

Literally this will make you smarter. Our brains HAVE TO HAVE this zone out time to do important stuff behind the scenes. This does not happen during sleep, it's something else.

That weird pressurized feeling you get sometimes might be your brain on no defrag.

Give your brain a Daily Dose Of De-Frag.

starsdreaming

This explains so much.

Also, if you don't take the time regularly, your brain will do it for you. Usually when you're already stressed and it gets to be too much. You will zone out. And you can not control it. So regular maintenance will help

teaboot

I just reada really good fic but halfway through I realized "oh shit this is really familiar.... didn't I write something like this once?" And as I kept reading I kept predicting what happened next and the further I went the more convinced I was that they'd ripped off my story-

like, copied the ENTIRE plot and re-written it, just better than I had? The characters were more fleshed-out than mine were, and the POV was more interesting, and the pace made more sense- but it was MY STORY?

So close to the end I was like "holy shit.. do I message them? Ask if my story inspired theirs? Should I be angry? Flattered?" Cause their tags and description didn't mention me AT ALL, which, sure, it's fanfiction to begin with, but if you're using my work than at least credit me as inspo, right? Just to be courteous?

But I get to the end of the final chapter, and it's not finished, and I'm kind of disappointed cause I never finished my story and I was really immersed in their version now and had been looking forwards to seeing how they tied up my loose ends- so I scroll to the bottom to leave a comment, and.

It's MY URL.

IT WAS MY STORY THE WHOLE TIME.

THE ONE *I WROTE*.

In *2013*.

And FORGOT ABOUT

BECAUSE I WAS SO INSECURE ABOUT MY SLOPPY, SHALLOW, AMETEUR WRITING

And I'm just sitting here now staring into space thinking about every shitty story I've ever written now like

IT WAS ALL GOOD?

IT WAS GOOD THIS WHOLE DAMN TIME??

I'M A GOOD WRITER?????

saintlaurentproblems

Wait that’s fucking weird lol

blessedchaosgod

these are the real traditions

emmy-bue

My favorite thing about Sweeney Todd is that Sweeney gets into the killing-and-baking people business because he’s a deeply broken man destroyed by an unjust and corrupt system that cost him his freedom and family and has been driven mad by revenge.

And Mrs Lovett does it because somthin wrong with her <3

sapphling

i let her hit because i had no flying blockers

butch-king-frankenstein

there's no shame in continuing to live with your parents as an adult, but it does have an undeniable poisoning effect on your brain that you can't start healing until you live somewhere else

loveofdetail

ppl talk about the difficulty of writing characters smarter than yourself, but the real challenge is writing a character who is funnier than you are

currentlycryingaboutlancelot

why does viva la vida by coldplay always go so hard. i hear those opening strings and instantly im a cynical and mournful king walking through his overthrown kingdom like oh shit I totally did used to rule the world!!! I used to roll the dice and feel the fear in my enemies’ eyes but now im literally sweeping the streets I used to own!!!! idk what it is about this song but for some reason i can’t explain

kestalsblog

Not every story is about seeing yourself in it. Sometimes it’s about learning to see other people too.

doesnotloveyou

@tearyeyedcat this was beautifully written, thank you for adding it!

charlesoberonn

Another excuse for me to post Head Writer of ATLA Aaron Ehasz’s great characters board:

unbearable-lightness-of-ink

CHARACTERS SHOULD BE: FALSE GODS

writing-prompt-s

A loving, married couple wake up one day to find that they have returned to their high school days, when they were the most popular student and the class geek.

pitviperofdoom

(CW: bullying, including homophobic and ableist language, mentioned drug use, gender dysphoria, depression)

When Angelique Lancaster dumped a backpack and a brown-bag lunch on their table before sitting down with a huff, all Erin could do was stare.

First off, she’d never seen Angelique wear a backpack before. Erin didn’t even know she owned one. It wasn’t like she needed one—there wasn’t a single freshman boy at Chapman High who wouldn’t have carried her textbooks for her, and paid for the privilege.

Second off, Angelique wasn’t wearing makeup, aside from eyeliner that looked at least two days old. She was wearing a T-shirt and jeans, for fuck’s sake—again, since when did Angelique Lancaster own T-shirts?

Since when did Angelique Lancaster even look at this table, much less schlep over and sit at it?

Maybe it wasn’t actually her. Maybe her less cool long-lost twin had just transferred. Just to check, Erin craned her neck to look over at the Shithead Patrol’s usual spot, clear on the other side of the cafeteria. Nope, no fashionable backpack-less doppelganger, just a table full of popular kids staring back with just as much fear and confusion as she felt.

Erin turned back and met Raph’s eyes on the other side of her own table, partly to communicate the sheer what-the-fuck of the situation, and partly to make sure her best friend was handling Angelique fucking Lancaster sitting next to him without panicking or shutting down. Raph’s appetite was always the first thing to go on a bad brain day, and he’d barely touched the soup in his thermos. The last thing he needed was whatever psychological warfare this was clearly supposed to be.

But instead of shrinking into his oversized hoodie like the world’s floppiest turtle, Raph took one look at Angelique and raised an eyebrow. “Well that didn’t take long.”

Erin watched, mouth agape, bracing herself for the queen of Chapman to rain venomous hell down on her best friend’s head for daring to speak to her.

Instead, she looked downright defensive. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You do realize you tanked your rep just by sitting here, right?” Raph said. “You mean to tell me you couldn’t stick it out for one day?”