oh little bear ...

self destructive mess.

[olittlebear]

Hey. I see u posted "A red girl". I am so intrigued, i was trying to get the full story or the entire extract. Do you know where I can find it? Pls msg me back hehe, thanks!

Hey, sorry for the delay in answering. It's in the book The Bread We Eat in Dreams. Well worth buying. 💖Enjoy.

[olittlebear]

The problems of adulthood.

So. First my brakes stop fully working on my way home from work last week and when I finally get the car to the garage I'm not allowed to drive it home. Get it fixed and bring my child out over the weekend. Sitting in my car in the car park waiting to collect him and another mother coming to collect her child drives into the back of my car. Then I have to wait inside with her. Omgosh. Then today a fucking hare ran in front of my car while I was driving to work. And we all know what happened to it. Srsly, I HATE driving.

[olittlebear]

While ant man was extremely charming due to the whole movie being full of banter, I still can't tell apart Ben Affleck and Paul Rudd (based on looks. Difference: I have learnt Paul Rudd seems likeable).

[olittlebear]

That song - Esto no me gusta

Sounds like it should be in an episode of Dora & friends.

[olittlebear]

My favourite weekend of the year. :D

Feels like the last year just flew by. Today was amazing. This weekend shall be one of the best. So excited. So terribly happy. Lovelovelove. ☺️

[olittlebear]

My boys gave me monies for these ponies today. Hello weekend. I'm going to own you. ✌️💕☺️🌈

[olittlebear]

- Gabrielle Zevin. 📖

[olittlebear]

This guy terrifies me.

[olittlebear]

I DIDN'T LOVE IT. OH EM GEE WHIZ WHAT. D: It's really thought out, and the graphics are good. But for me you can't beat a singing disney princess love story. x

[olittlebear]

🐶💐

[olittlebear]

Inside cover of tonight's bed time story && obviously the best part. 🐄

[olittlebear]

Shawn and Angela proving once more young romance is a childhood dream.

When did I ever vote for reality

[olittlebear]

“What he really wanted was to find some reason to exist.” “He was Sissamik,” said Param. “That’s a reason to exist.” “It’s an office. A title. He told me once—just once, mind you—that he was a mere decoration on the costume of a deposed queen. An accessory, like shoes, like a hat. If his wife ruled, he would still have no power; since she did not, he was worse than useless.” “He was wonderful,” said Param. “He was the only one who treated me like . . .” “Like a daughter.” “Like a little girl,” said Param. “But yes, like a daughter.” “He found you fascinating. ‘She’ll be Sessamin someday, after her mother, and if she has power she’ll have the power to be a monster if she wants, like her great-grandmother, the boy-killer.’” “He said that?” “It wasn’t an insult—it was one of her self-chosen titles.”

[olittlebear]

Maybe I’m along to write the history afterward. Or perhaps I’ll be the one who dies, so that you can be warned that danger has arrived. That’s how it works in stories—there’s one who isn’t really needful to the tale, and so he’s the one who gets killed first. Usually he’s forgotten; nobody even mentions him at the end.

[olittlebear]

Param strode boldly forward, though she did not know where she was going. It seemed the thing to do, the antidote to her timidity of a few moments before.

[olittlebear]

It was so much easier to be brave when you were saving someone else. But when you were the one at risk, then courage was selfish, false, dangerous, pointless. Better to hide. Better to be left behind? Better to be hungry, unable to find food? Better to be seen as a coward, unable to cope with the slightest stress? She would never earn the respect of these people, least of all her brother. Not that she needed their respect—she was Sissaminka, wasn’t she? Not anymore. She was nothing now. It did her no good to regard these people as lower than her station. And yet they were—every bit of her upbringing told her so. Umbo, the boy whose hand she had held, whose life she had saved and who had saved her life in turn, he was barely educated, he was the son of an artisan. Now he thought they were friends. Impossible. Yet if she was ever to have a friend, why not him?

[olittlebear]

On impulse, Umbo fell in beside Loaf and walked along with him. Loaf showed no aversion to this. So as they climbed the stairs, Umbo slipped his fingers into Loaf’s large, man-sized hand and gripped him. Ever so faintly, ever so gently, he felt Loaf’s grip tighten in response. A hint of a sign that Loaf was still in there. Loaf knew him. That was enough for Umbo. Enough for now, anyway. Because if he ever became sure that Loaf was utterly gone, that his body was now completely the property of the monster implanted on his head, Umbo would find a way to kill him. If Loaf couldn’t have his own life, this creature wasn’t going to have it, either. But Loaf was there. For now. So far.