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samephotoofskswlink

Follow to see the same photo of Skyward Sword Link every day.

taylor12230

Something Tended

I do not want to love you

like a passing season

all bright color and sudden warmth

only to fade when the weather changes.

I want to love you

like something tended.

Like a garden walked slowly,

carefully,

with reverence for every living thing inside it.

I want to know the softest parts of you

the way morning knows window light,

gently,

without forcing anything open

before it is ready.

I do not want to hand you pretty words

and call that devotion.

Anyone can call you beautiful,

can buy flowers when the calendar tells them to,

can make promises under a sky

that has never tested them.

I want to be more than that.

I want to be there

for the quiet, ordinary holiness of loving you—

for the long days,

the tired days,

the socks-on-the-kitchen-floor kind of days.

The days when your heart is heavy

and the air feels too thick

and you need someone steady beside you,

not someone dazzled only by your light.

I want my love to have hands.

I want it to carry,

to comfort,

to listen,

to stay.

Because you are not a moment to me.

Not a thrill.

Not a beautiful thing to be wanted

and then taken for granted.

You are someone I want to cherish

in the daily language of choosing.

I want to love you truthfully—

not rushed,

not all at once,

but slowly, peacefully, steadily,

the way you move through an art gallery

or a botanical garden,

letting each beautiful thing

be seen fully

before stepping into the next.

I want to love you

in a way that makes my actions

worthy of my words.

In a way that proves

forever is not something I would say lightly

just because it sounds good in the dark.

I want to be the place

where your heart can rest

without wondering if it is too much.

I want you to know

you never have to earn gentleness with me.

I want to hold what is tender in you

like it is sacred.

Because that is what you are to me—

not the kind of desire that burns up fast,

but the kind that quiets the world around it.

The kind that makes every other gaze irrelevant.

The kind that does not make me want more,

but makes me want depth.

Truth.

Consistency.

A life that fits your hand in mine.

I do not want to just want you.

I want to deserve the way I say your name in my chest.

I want to love you

so that on the days when words are small,

my presence still says:

I am here.

I choose you.

I mean it.

sil-chrisredd

This. I wanted so many people to feel this. And I failed so many. I'm so sorry that I couldn't fulfill what you needed. I'm so sorry we got so close, only for me to screw it up at the last second because I got scared.

taylor12230

Something Tended

I do not want to love you

like a passing season

all bright color and sudden warmth

only to fade when the weather changes.

I want to love you

like something tended.

Like a garden walked slowly,

carefully,

with reverence for every living thing inside it.

I want to know the softest parts of you

the way morning knows window light,

gently,

without forcing anything open

before it is ready.

I do not want to hand you pretty words

and call that devotion.

Anyone can call you beautiful,

can buy flowers when the calendar tells them to,

can make promises under a sky

that has never tested them.

I want to be more than that.

I want to be there

for the quiet, ordinary holiness of loving you—

for the long days,

the tired days,

the socks-on-the-kitchen-floor kind of days.

The days when your heart is heavy

and the air feels too thick

and you need someone steady beside you,

not someone dazzled only by your light.

I want my love to have hands.

I want it to carry,

to comfort,

to listen,

to stay.

Because you are not a moment to me.

Not a thrill.

Not a beautiful thing to be wanted

and then taken for granted.

You are someone I want to cherish

in the daily language of choosing.

I want to love you truthfully—

not rushed,

not all at once,

but slowly, peacefully, steadily,

the way you move through an art gallery

or a botanical garden,

letting each beautiful thing

be seen fully

before stepping into the next.

I want to love you

in a way that makes my actions

worthy of my words.

In a way that proves

forever is not something I would say lightly

just because it sounds good in the dark.

I want to be the place

where your heart can rest

without wondering if it is too much.

I want you to know

you never have to earn gentleness with me.

I want to hold what is tender in you

like it is sacred.

Because that is what you are to me—

not the kind of desire that burns up fast,

but the kind that quiets the world around it.

The kind that makes every other gaze irrelevant.

The kind that does not make me want more,

but makes me want depth.

Truth.

Consistency.

A life that fits your hand in mine.

I do not want to just want you.

I want to deserve the way I say your name in my chest.

I want to love you

so that on the days when words are small,

my presence still says:

I am here.

I choose you.

I mean it.

astraldemise

brought scolipede to a party with me because i need to bring him with me when i get anxious and i thought people might think it was weird but no they think hes cool as fuck

astraldemise

something ive learned is when you become an adult most of your peers dont give a shit about your more peculiar traits and sometimes they actually like these traits. like yeah i was bullied as a kid for bringing a plushie to school but in my 20s everyone thinks its fine in fact people love my epic scolipede

doomhope

[ID: Two views of the Scolipede plushie. On the left it’s sticking out of a small backpack, and on the right it’s held up to the camera. End ID]

sil-chrisredd

I wanna do this but with a plush Reshiram

justcatposts

Every year a bobcat mama gives birth to a litter of kittens on my roof. I set up a camera this time around.

(Source)

takineko

supreme-leader-stoat

Youth fascination with technology

midnightmoonday

universal mom noises of get the fuck down from there

thewiglesswonder

There really is no feeling quite like discovering a new song that fits your blorbo to a T. Best I can do to convey it is something like

thewiglesswonder

Shoutout to the person who reblogged this 185 times in a row. I understand completely.

gar-wafflez

foldingfittedsheets

Something that literally changed my life was working with a friend on a coding thing. He was helping me create an auto rig script and was trying to explain something to me but his words were just turning into static in my brain. I was tired and confused and there was so many new concepts happening.

I could feel myself working toward a crying meltdown and was getting preemptively ashamed of what was about to happen when he said, “Hey, are you someone who benefits from breaks?”

It broke me.

Did I benefit from breaks? I didn’t know. I’d never taken them.

When a problem frustrated or upset me I just gritted my teeth and plowed through the emotional distress because eventually if you batter and flail at something long enough you figure it out. So what if you get bruised on the way.

I viscerally remembered in that moment being forced to sit at the table late into the night with my dad screaming at me, trying to understand math. I remembered taking that with me into adulthood and having breakdowns every week trying to understand coding. I could have taken a break? Would it help? I didn’t know! I’d never taken one!

“Yes,” I told him. We paused our call. I ate lunch. I focused on other stuff for half an hour. I came back in a significantly better state of mind, and the thing he’d been trying to explain had been gently cooking in the back of my head and seemed easier to understand.

Now when I find myself gritting my teeth at problems I can hear his gentle voice asking if I benefit from breaks. Yes, dear god, yes why did I never get taught breaks? Why was the only way I knew to keep suffering until something worked?

I was relating to this same friend recently my roadtrip to the redwoods with my wife. “We stopped every hour or so to get out and stretch our legs and switch drivers. It was really nice. When I was a kid we’d just drive twelve hours straight and not stop for anything, just gas. We’d eat in the car and power through.”

He gave a wry smile, immediately connecting the mindset of my parents on a road trip to what they’d instilled in me about brute forcing through discomfort. “Do you benefit from breaks?” he echoed, drawing my attention to it, making me smile with the same sad acknowledgement.

Take breaks. You’re allowed. You don’t have to slam into problems over and over and over, let yourself rest. It will get easier. Take. Breaks.

nianeyna

my first boss had a bit he liked to use on people, he'd go, "why do you have brakes on your car?" and of course you'd be like uhhhh what well I guess so you can slow down? and then he'd got you, he'd say no. the brakes are there so you can go faster. imagine driving without brakes! you'd have to move at .1 miles per hour all the time because otherwise if you ever ran into an obstacle you'd die. and this is the same thing (my boss would say) as taking breaks while you are working. if you don't take breaks, you can't move at all.