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[fuckyeahfantasies]

“I remember,” Dany said sadly. “They murdered Rhaegar’s daughter as well, the little princess. Rhaenys, she was named, like Aegon’s sister. There was no Visenya, but he said the dragon has three heads. What is the song of ice and fire?”

[psychopierce]

[honestdonut]

++++ for the fancasting

[targaryensource]

Visenya was as much a warrior as Aegon himself, as comfortable in ringmail as in silk. She carried the Valyrian longsword Dark Sister, and was skilled in its use, having trained beside her brother since childhood.

[yocalio]

Visenya/Daenerys: A dragonrider. A warrior, comfortable in both silk and ringmail.

[honestdonut]

Why do I do this?

I’ve spent today doing nothing. I’m not sure if this is some sort of warning sign of darker times to come. I’ve done a lot of thinking. 

I’m entering the last year of medical school - the last year that counts, anyway. I realised that in order to make it to the top 20% of my year, I may need to average 79% this year - at least. At best, I should be looking at 85%. 

Is this even possible? 

I’m not really sure. At school, I used to average over 90% - but then school was effortless for me. I got the highest I’ve ever gotten in exams this year, around 77%. It makes me think that 79% isn’t too much of a stretch, but the sheer volume of material this year is staggering - so are the factors beyond my control. 

I am also due to run a half marathon in 2 months, and I can barely manage 5k. I am aspiring for a job for which only 1 in 20 people get through.  

So really, why do I do this? Why on earth do I put myself through this, set myself targets that seem impossible? 

It’s not so much that I fight against anyone else. In all of this, my biggest enemy is myself. I stop myself running halfway, for no reason. It’s my voice whispering that I’d be insane to think of averaging 80 this year - the hardest year in the slog that is medical school. It’s agony to fight yourself, but I’ve been doing that a long time. I’ve talked myself out of a desperate urge for suicide, to live day by day. When every cell in my body, every part of me and everything that made me was screaming at me to die, just die, I had to pull myself out. I don’t think I’ve felt despair like I had that night, the overwhelming urge to just end it all. It’s funny that I can do that but stop myself from doing something as trivial as running. 

Then comes this urge to come within the top in medical school. I don’t do it because I can’t handle not being at the top - in a little way, this is true - but because I have to. I need every advantage I can get. Because I’m in love. 

I’m in love with beating hearts. I’m in love with cracking someone’s chest open and holding life itself in your hands, the organ that is never tired, that keeps beating through heartbreak and loss, when your legs crumple beneath you and your breath is taken away. I love the heart because of what it means to me, what it reminds me of. To keep beating. To just keep going. And if it takes me this, missing concerts and working into the night, getting up at 5 to run, it’s worth it, because it is the love of my life. 

And you do whatever you have to, for what you love. 

Bathed in the orange glow, alone in this house listening to Charlotte Gainsbourg, I am making myself a promise. I am going to run that half marathon. I am going to top my year. Because all of it is worth it. If I can talk my mind, desperate to die, into living for four more years, 13.1 miles is nothing. Topping medical school is nothing. 

[kalamano]

My fav thing