just realized we forgot to post half of our 19th birthday edit 💙 @tiredandlonelymuse
Lol 🥲
KIROKAZE
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ojovivo
Monterey Bay Aquarium

Janaina Medeiros

Love Begins
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

izzy's playlists!

JBB: An Artblog!

if i look back, i am lost

Kaledo Art

blake kathryn
Sade Olutola
Misplaced Lens Cap

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
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todays bird
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Not today Justin

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seen from United States

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@reverains
just realized we forgot to post half of our 19th birthday edit 💙 @tiredandlonelymuse
Lol 🥲
19 years of tumblr! 💝🎉🎂 thank you to everyone who's made our community so special 🫶
Aww 🥺
Not to talk politics on main but hey what the fuck
When I was in high school, I love to read what we call pocketbooks. Stories about romance, of love and life, and happy endings. Some of the scenes from the books I still remember (some remain my favorites)—includes of course the joy in reading, the sigh of happiness and relief of how the story unfolds, the kilig! One of my favorites that I still remember—coming from one of the books I have read first when I was still getting into reading these pocketbooks—was when the heroine trimmed her hair probably just an inch shorter and the hero noticed it. I don’t remember the lines exchanged between the characters but my mind goes to this particular scene every time I read any romance books these days.
Would someone actually noticed something nonsensical and minuscule as such in real life?
I think I used to. Then I stopped paying attention—I think that’s what happened when life gets in the way that what you notice is only yourself. Selfish and a bit depressing. Heh.
I don’t think I have live many lives as other people did, for quite a while, I didn’t know how life works. I just know it was shitty and some are good days. Since I moved to the States, I have been alone. It has only been a couple of years since I finally tried opening up to new friendships—I really don’t know how to gain friends in a place I know no one. I have read workplace isn’t the best place to find friends. Relatives remind me that it’s not safe to attend meet-ups because… you just don’t know, even though I know book clubs would have a been a good start for me since I enjoy reading. I don’t fret these things now because I trying new things now…somehow.
These days, I think I’m trying to start paying attention again—going back to learning on how to be observant and astute again. Maybe this is why I’ve noticed how my mother learned how to say sorry now to us, her kids, and even to her siblings even though she does the right things; or how my father learned how to say thank you, after his cardiac arrest last year. I think he learnt how to more grateful now. Or how my eldest sister always reaches out in the family group chat even nothing important is there to talk about—because I realize now how it is hard when you are away from your family and her being the first one to step away from our home to earn for living. Or how my second eldest sister is willing to spend money for us with no hesitation although she resent things that had happened in the family but knew how hard it is to live without money. Or how my sister before me insists on paying us back soon with the help we provide her because she thinks she might be a burden. Or how my grandmother calls my mother’s name even when she’s away for work, maybe because she knows how my mother treats her right. Or how some of my relatives treat us shit sometimes—hawk-eye on things that we do.
Ugh, never mind. I hate talking about some of my relatives. They don’t belong on this space.
Anyway.
Not a long time ago, I have attended these every week type of learning conferences at work. One topic is about self-awareness and self-management. This is particularly helpful understanding how I personally react on things and understanding how other people react as well. It’s so bizarre just knowing some of these things now. Because when I was clueless—or acting clueless—I didn’t care. Now, I overthink things when I feel like I said or done the wrong things. Although what’s weirder is witnessing your coworkers sudden mood change because of the way they handle their job and tasks—but sometimes there is no right way to approach things because some of the are just volatile. I still pull away from these scenarios sometimes and just say things like “take it easy” even though I know it’s not effective at all. Hopefully, I am able to help them regulate their emotions too—but hey, that ain’t MY job. Hah!
Which reminds me of that one question asked by a friend during on of our lunch breaks: “Are you guys happy?” Other friend said they are, and I on the other hand just say, “I don’t think I am genuinely happy. There are good days, though, when I feel happy enough.” And the asker friend agreed with me and added, “Money would help, though.”
I don’t think I feel miserable. I don’t think MY life is depressing, although things happening around the world today are.
You know what.
Maybe I never stopped paying attention, I think I just learned how to be more understanding—living life with empathy and humility. Not that I didn’t before, more so now.
And no, I don’t think anybody has noticed when trimmed my hair an inch shorter.
You belong with me. 💚💛💜❤️🩵🖤
Letter on my site :)
💫💕🙂↕️
Alex Dimitrov, from "Chance Visitors"
“How do you move on? You move on when your heart finally understands that there is no turning back.”
— J.R.R. Tolkien
because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.
you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.
you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.
don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.
if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.
you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:
how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!
aren't you happy yet?
want to express if you are an adult teaching yourself haltingly to do things usually taught to children by adults who loved and raised them to be in this world, whatever it is whatever you’re trying to do theres no shame in it, in not having casual fluency expected at your age, and your world is as small as you tell yourself it will be and its better than falling silent. at some time somewhere on this earth someone figured out how to gut a fish for the first time, or mend a hole in a garment, and then they showed someone else. you get to be your own first, and if you’re ever interested and if you keep at it maybe you will get to turn your second tongue into someone’s mother, and there will be fewer lost and disjointed people in this world. I learned how to to shower properly in college. Keep going. Maybe you have an advantage even, to still have the expectation to be learning. It will keep your insides young.
life is… shadow and light. constant movement. there is nothing to do but to witness it & spend these moments with our best intentions. to accept things as they are and as they come. yet again: there is nothing but the eternal, for us nothing but the present
Looking through all my recent posts here, it actually feels weird to get back to writing things about my life—just because of my young self thinking I’d be fine with more reblog posts. Back then, I think it was okay; having little some things about myself then some of the things I love and adore in just one page/blog. Sounds lovely for me… for awhile. I got tired sharing things about myself that I end up having to reopen all my side blogs because I don’t want this blog just for reblog posts. Lol.
Sometime ago, I think I shared that I stopped sharing things just because I value my privacy much more these days. The mystery for my safety, if that makes sense. Also, maybe because for the longest time in my life—when I stopped writing on this blog—nothing exciting actually happened around those times. I thought, at least. Exciting means something always grand for me, but I grew up, which means my definition has changed already since then. I’m not settling, just that I know now which ones I should be seeking and looking for to make my life exciting again—even with the simplest things: K-pop; TV series that were finished along time ago but been wanting to watch; sticking to romance comedy books even though people expect me to read with sense (idk what they meant loljk); food and so so much more food; listening to music while driving (this sounds like freedom, honestly!); and just enjoying some roleplaying games on my phone. Yes, all of these involved using my money. Hahaha.
I’m doing alright these days. Not the life I want, but I’m on the timeline of making my life better so it will be the life I want sometime soon. I’m still lacking in confidence (and charm!) so I’m struggling with choosing what is the best for myself. I need to work on that more. Speaking of work, I’ve been trying to look for a new job. I’ve been questioning myself if my skills are actually in the industry I want to work on—yes, a career change! I don’t think I was ever meant for manufacturing, and I was eyeing healthcare (and technology) even before. I hope things work out for me, and God-willing, may it be this year. Even though I hate writing cover letters. Bleh.
Anyway. Life is still not fair, but mostly for people don’t have much privileges. No wonder I still hate life in general. Heh.
Here’s a photo of the sunset tonight (hate that it was almost 8pm at that time but the sun is still high, it’s still a beauty though):
“For The Plot,” I whisper, deleting a rad detail that no longer works as tears fall from my eyes
Don’t delete it!
Take the detail and put it in a cut scene file. Less anguish + can be used again if needed later. Recycling!
Brought to you by: I never used to be merciless enough as an editor because losing bits made me sad. Now that I know I can bring them back for a sequel or even post cut scenes separately, I am so much more vicious, and my writing is better for it.
Instead of killing your darlings, I’ve called it cryogenically freezing your darlings
SOME GOLD WRITING ADVICE
Oh, this changes everything
Ada Limón, from “The Great Blue Heron Of Dunbar Road”, Bright Dead Things
— Edna St. Vincent Millay, “Alms”
[text ID: My heart is what it was before / A house where people come and go;]
Sometimes I want to write a fantasy epic with incredibly deep lore and meaning, other times I want to write a dystopian setting with a lot of uncomfortable truths. I also want to write a tragedy that will make people cry, and a romance that is so sweet that I'll give myself cavities. I want to write a story with no meaning or message at all, it's just chaos and fun, and a novel that explores the depths of humanity and the meaning of life. I want to write contemporary fiction and historical fiction and something that takes place in the future. I want to write mysteries, post-apocalyptic stories, thrillers, horror, urban fantasy and—
clarice lispector / @billypotts / yehuda amichai / hélène cixous / louise bourgeois / natalie wee / callie porcher / natalie diaz / jenny slate
ANIS MOJGANI x ALEXANDER HARDING
‘For Those Who Can Still Ride In An Airplane For The First Time’, spoken word, uploaded on Youtube on 20 Apr. 2009;
Visible Light series (2010), photography