I apologize for the harshness of my words, Miss Bennet, but your family is just so cringe
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I apologize for the harshness of my words, Miss Bennet, but your family is just so cringe
some trump supporter interrupted a reporter to yell "at least we're not burning businesses down" and like
i know that like if we want the rewards of being loved we must submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known but like what are the rewards of being loved? are they really worth all that? you talk of love and loving often and sometimes im so in your corner but other times it just makes me angry. is it really all that great?
This ask has been in my inbox for a number of days now, and honestly, every time I try and contemplate what it’s asking my mind stalls. “What are the rewards of being loved?” reads like like asking what kind of cheese the moon is made of, or how much dark there is before the dawn. It’s definitely a question! Theoretically it has an answer! But what kind of answer can I give that will make sense, since apparently....the reward of being loved isn’t being loved.
I mean, in the original essay, the one that gave birth to the meme, the trigger for “being known” is not really all that mortifying. Timothy Kreider emailed his friends about a herd of goats he was renting. Someone accidentally replied-all “oof,” which inspired the reflection about the gap between how we imagine people see us (charmingly off-beat renter of goats, perfect) and how we are actually known by the people in our lives (someone who fritters away their income renting a herd of goats for no discernible reason.) Kreider concludes that this actually isn’t a gap at all---we are all fully capable of loving people profoundly while still seeing their faults, finding things they do annoying, and commiserating with mutual friends about that person’s quirks.
I as an individual might like to think I am exempt from this, that I am dazzling and charming and the people who like me don’t even notice my foibles, but the truth is they do, it just doesn’t effect their love for me.
Hence the “mortifying ordeal”---not only do I have to make myself vulnerable to someone else’s gaze, but I then have to accept that the people who like me do it in full knowledge of who I am. At any given moment, people are walking around fully aware of the fact that I’m a know-it-all and a bad loser, that I am not always emotionally available; my first instinct is to argue and my taste in music is somehow pedestrian and pretentious at once, that I am mostly trying, and a lot of times I fail. All the less-than-perfect things inside me are not secreted out of view; they are very obvious to anyone who has spent enough time with me, who has chosen to be around me for more than a half hour.
And that’s the people who like me!
So if we didn’t want to be known, deep down under all the squirming icky, insecure mess that makes being known such a terrifying prospect, then you’re right. The ordeal isn’t worth it, we should all pack up and go home, because people are always going to fucking see us. The random coworker who watches your face during a meeting knows you; the cousin who listened to your snarky comment knows you. You stumble through the world being known, inevitably, inexorably.
But being seen is necessary to be truly loved---and when it comes down to it, to be loved is to be real. Kreider references The Velveteen Rabbit in his follow-up article, appropriately titled “I Am a Meme Now.” I don’t think he’s wrong to draw on the idea that people observing our secret places, our weird faces, our strange comments and experience of the world makes them ultimate more real. Our experience lives inside us, in our head and impulse and feeling, so we are not objective in this---but we can’t escape all that leak out of us into the sight of others either. We can’t escape being known by someone who isn’t us, and rendered more than just our subjective selves through them. (In some ways, being known by someone else can be even truer than what we know about ourselves.)
The reward of all this---the only one that counts---is that sometimes, someone looks into your bloody beating insides and stays. They see your ugly expressions and listen to your nasty comments and peel back the heavy, wet layers of your intestines to see the guts beneath and still, they love you anyway.
It is the closest thing to a miracle most of us will experience.
do you guys remember being like 9 and KNOWING beyond a shadow of a doubt that you wanted to be a marine biologist when you grew up more than you'd ever wanted anything else but then you found out all the fucking math that would entail and immediately gave up
CAPTAIN AMERICA: CIVIL WAR (2016) Deleted Scene
SHE-RA AND THE PRINCESSES OF POWER (2018) “Don’t you get it? I love you. I always have. So please, just this once. Stay!”
THIS IS THE FUNNIEST FUCKING COMMENT
Holy shit you guys-
cries screams ahhhh
when the gods send you a blessing, you don’t ask why it was sent. The Prince of Egypt (1998) dir. Brenda Chapman, Simon Wells, and Steve Hickner.
oh to think marvel never had a cohesive plan for bruce banner, and rather than tap into the comic book material (abusive father with anger issues who murdered his mom in front of him, fear of being a real like monster like him) the left him with an empty backstory and used him as a plot device, changing his personality to fit the film he was in, going from sarcastic and competent scientist capable of controlling the hulk, to a meek and tired man out of control, to the butt end of a joke, and how “professor hulk” was the worst possible end for mcu bruce banner bc the haphazard and patchwork character they presented us had no reason to merge his personas. professor hulk wasn’t the best of both worlds, and in fact bruce & hulk lost some of their best qualities when they merged. hulk lost anger and fire and “hulk smash”. bruce lost his humbleness (he hated being in the spotlight and now he’s a celebrity?), his dedication to his friends, and his quiet nature. AND of course bc bruce banner was never marvels or the fandoms favorite, we just have to accept the way his characters development was basically thrown into the trash
Now, think of the happiest things. It’s the same as having wings.
DISNEY + RAINBOW COLOURS
you don’t have to do this alone
Techboblade: I've only had tubbo for a day and a half
Techboblade: but if I was subjected to mild amounts of peer pressure I would kill him and everyone else in this room