
Kiana Khansmith
Game of Thrones Daily
Sade Olutola
Today's Document
taylor price
art blog(derogatory)

oozey mess
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Origami Around
Misplaced Lens Cap
Xuebing Du
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
One Nice Bug Per Day
Keni
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
NASA
wallacepolsom
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
noise dept.

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@sleepylilvvitch
)O( WITCH REAL TALK )O(
I think there’s a big misconception about pagans from those new to the pagan path about what they’re supposed to do–that you need to have candles, crystals, and a huge garden full of magical plants that sing or something. Or that we have statues with gold leafing and an altar for every deity we worship (if a pagan chooses to worship/work with them), and dance in a forest at midnight under a full moon, or murmur a spell and bring a rushing of roiling dark clouds to usher in a massive rain storm. Or that every room in our house looks like that one witch with the freaking perfect ‘witchy home’ instagram account. You know what ones I mean.
But really honestly, magic is often super subtle. It’s the mini cactus on your windowsill that protects you from negative energies. It’s stirring your tea/coffee/hot beverage of choice clock wise to bring it positivity. It’s setting up wind chimes in your window to invite air elementals to come and blow away any negativity or bad dreams from your bed room. It’s feeling the energy of nature and those around you and knowing that not everyone takes the time to listen–but you do. Because you took the time to listen. Because you learned how to. Because you were aware enough to question. And compassionate enough to WANT to learn. Magic is often built by repetition, saying something over and over to motivate yourself is a spell. That’s your power. Your magic. YOURS. Magic is subtle but it’s real. It’s not Harry potter. It’s not dazzling lights and jolts of glitter and neon streaks from a wand. It’s in everyday actions. Its in the vibrations of plants and rocks, and yes, even technology. It’s IN YOU. YOU are magical. YOU are not just a shaper of magic, you are also made of it. You don’t need rocks, candles, crystals, plants, statues, goblets, wands, swords, expensive incense, or bath salts blessed by a high priestess. You just need you, and nature, and learning. That’s it. The gods (if you believe in higher powers) will come because you have noticed them and raised your thoughts to them. You don’t need to light a candle to get their notice. You just need to be aware. And to have an open heart and an open mind. That’s it guys. If you’re new to the pagan path, PLEASE feel free to reach out to me with questions. I was where you were (and I still learn everyday–I’m by no means all knowing!) and I had people to answer my questions and give me their time. I give you mine in return. You’re not alone. )O( Blessed Be )O(
How do you keep writing (and arting)?!
I deal with depression and anxiety on a daily basis.
Sometimes my brain shuts down. Sometimes I just want to curl up and wither away until things get better (if it ever does). We all know how it goes.
Writing is my absolute passion. I live and breathe to write. Art is a close second, also.
A lot of successful/productive writers advice is to keep writing. Every day. Make it happen. Force yourself to push through and get those words down. Don’t be lazy and stop writing for a day because you don’t feel like it.
Artists seem to give similar advice.
My question is, how? How do you do that when you’re going through the worst bout of depression you’ve experienced in a while. There are days (usually consecutive) that I can hardly even do daily chores around the house, or feed myself. How am I supposed to write, when my creativity is locked away, and the key is just out of reach?
I don’t know how other people do it. Or if they even do...
Finally, when I am in a better mental state, I can’t seem to get back into the swing of things for a long. And it bothers me endlessly.
Maybe I’m taking the advice the wrong way... I don’t know.
In case you have forgotten
I will write 2k today or curl up in a ball and sob, trying.
Six years ago, I ran away. Six years ago, I was just sixteen. Six years ago I was mistreated by a man who was twenty-seven. Six years ago, my parents let him come home with me, just so they could make sure I wouldn’t run away again.Today I am twenty-two. Today I broke free from a secret I’ve been keeping for years. Today I finally told my mother what happened six years ago.All these years have passed, and yet I am still chained by the fears I had when I was sixteen. All these years have passed, and I still don’t remember everything that happened to me. It’s all locked away somewhere in my mind, taunting me on a daily basis. Sometimes the memories are triggered and I get a fragment of one of the horrible events that happened. Sometimes I wake up from nightmares about him coming back and killing me. Sometimes I have nightmares about killing him.Sometimes it is just all too much. His name alone can trigger a panic attack. I could be talking about somebody entirely different, but that name. I just can’t bare hearing it, especially from my own mouth. I shut down entirely if someone tries to talk about abuse or rape.I lost my innocence to him.He lured me in. I was young. I was naive. I fell for his lies. By the time I realized that it was too late. He hit me. He raped me. It got to the point where I just didn’t resist anymore, out of fear that he’d do more than just hurt me. He was careful not to leave bruises. He knew my father would kill him for it. But I knew that if he snapped, he could kill me.After being violated over and over for nine months, he was finally taken away by the RCMP, for unrelated situations. I never told anybody. I kept my mouth shut. I was terrified that he would come back. And he tried. They released him, and a few days later, they found him sitting at the end of somebody’s driveway in a town only thirty minutes from mine.My father paid for a motel room for the night and a bus ticket the next day, just to get him out of the province and away from us.A week later, I found out I was pregnant, and my entire world was shaken and turned around and upside down. I was pregnant because he forced me to drop my birth control pill down the drain every day.Many would probably question why I kept the baby if I went through all of that… If there was the very real possibility that he was conceived through rape. I kept my child because it’s not your business why. I am happy to say that he is growing into a sweet, handsome, sometimes devilish little man. Although it has been difficult, I am happy with the decision I made.I am so damaged… So broken, from what he put me through. The anxiety. The depression. Every day is like walking the tightrope for the first time, with no safety harness or net below to catch me if I fall. And sometimes I do fall. And when I do, as much as I’d love to lay there and let the darkness consume me, I dig and claw my way back up.Running away with someone seemed so romanticized. In movies and in books, girls would run away with their 'soulmates'. How could that not translate to real life? You recently just met them. You feel like they understand; They care. You could get away from all the troubles in your life and start anew, with the one you think you might love.There is nothing romantic about it. It’s reckless. It’s dangerous. It’s scary.Every time I hear about teenage girls going missing, I’m terrified that they’ve gotten into the same situation that I was in. I’m terrified that they met someone like him. I’m terrified that they met him.When I told my mother, her initial reaction was less than comforting. She blamed me. It was my fault. It was my fault because I ran away in the first place. It was my fault because I stayed in that situation, even though I had many opportunities to leave without risk of getting hurt.In a way, what she said is true. But she wasn't victim blaming, I know that. I know my mother and I know her methods of communication are rarely delicate. What she really meant was that if I had gotten out when I had the chance, I wouldn't be experiencing the mental and emotional recoil of being abused. She knows it wasn't truly my fault. I'm not to blame for his actions. I'm not to blame for his unstable mental state. I'm not to blame for his inability to grasp the concept of consent.Although difficult, coming forward was the most liberating thing I have ever done. I thought I would always be alone in this. But so many people are supporting me as I take the next steps in my journey. Every day I am thankful to still be here. I am thankful to have a strong, sweet little man to keep me grounded. And now, I am thankful to have all the love and support I need to get better.
I danced in the rain today.I danced until I was soaked to the bone.I laughed and sang out for the first time in a while.Then I stopped to wonder if this was normal.I’ve been walking on eggshells.But they’ve crumbled beneath my feet,I look down to see what has been below me.I’ve been high above the ground walking the tightrope.Something I was never taught to do.I have no safety harness,Not even a net below, to catch me if I fall.I dance across that high wire, arms extended.In the pouring down rain.I smile and laugh as I reach the platform on the other side.I danced in the rain today.I danced because I made it.
Life has been a rollercoaster lately. I stopped writing for a few months because my mental health has been up and down and I’ve also suddenly developed a social life overnight. It’s been crazy, but I’m back now. I have entered a writing contest with a novel I have yet to complete. I have 30 days to write 25,000-ish words and finish the manuscript. I know I can do it no problem if I write 1000+ words a day. I'm glad they're only looking for a first draft.
I think I need to re-outline what’s left of my novel. In detail. Right now.
Working hard to get this first draft finished. ~30k in 40 days. Think I can do it?
Reblog if you support male body positivity.
He is Leviathan. She is human. When Elizabeth’s wanderlust led her to the edge of the forest, she saw Trey for the first time. She didn’t realize that would turn her entire world upside down. He is from Eternal City. She is from Wildemeadow. Their two worlds exist, separated only by a vast expanse of woodland, filled with unknown horrors. Who knew an Elder Witch’s bedtime stories could uncover buried secrets and the truth about the underworld that controls both cities?
It would mean the world to me if everybody would click the link and vote for me! It is my dream to have a novel published, and I could really do it if I win this contest.
Voting doesn't mean I will win, but it can help the judges narrow down entries. So please.. it would only take a few seconds!
THANK YOU FOR UNDERSTANDING.
Yuuuuuuuuup
8 Ways to Get Past Writers Block
Read. Read a lot. Read everything you can, but don’t read like a reader, read like a writer. If you’re doing it right, there’s nothing that gets the juices flowing quite as well. This is the way you develop your style; you see things you like and things you don’t like in books and you put these values into your writing.
Read a good book. Reading a good book is why you got into writing in the first place, right? There’s something new you can learn from every book. You can see what works well and what you ARE doing. It’s inspiring to read good writing and it makes you want to try harder where you might be lacking.
Read a bad book. Not only will reading a bad published book make the world feel more hopeful, but it will make you see what you can avoid doing in your novel and what you KNOW you can do better than them.
Find other writers. Connecting with other writers is so important, whether online or in person. Not only is it nice to able to share your writing, but knowing you have a group or person to depend on with your same goals in mind is motivating. Even just talking through ideas with someone tends to yield more powerful results, and they have their own tips and trick they’ve learned that may help you.
Break it up. Chapters are there for both readers and writers. If you can get through one chapter, you can get through them all. Even make a different word document for each chapter if you need to. It will stop you more from going back and getting caught up in your plot holes that occurred fifty pages earlier.
Read the last page you wrote. The darkest of my writers block days have been stopped with this technique. Tell yourself you’ll just read the last page, maybe edit some phrasing. Then write the next page. Stopping off in the middle of a sentence helps as well. All this settles you into your story gently and gets you involved and editing a more polished draft at the end.
Keep notes. Texts messages can be sent to your email. Finding a pen and paper is hard sometimes, so you can just text ideas to your email. Not only is this handy to get fresh ideas down, but every time you check your email you’ll see these awesome ideas. Or keep a notebook if that works for you. Or write in the margins of your school work. Just get the ideas out.
Immerse yourself. The reason you started your story is because you have such a huge passion for it. What you need to do is remind yourself of these reasons as much as possible. Surround yourself with writing and creativity. Think about how your characters would respond to situations you find yourself in. Describe people you see in the streets as you would if you were introducing them to a novel. Look for people that look like your characters. Tell your friends about your book, give them your ideas. If your life isn’t a little bit about your story, you’re not doing it right.
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Pro-Tip for writers
Fan Fic, O-fic, Non-Fic.
Prose, Poetry or Song.
If you ever start to “jokingly” think/talk/post about an idea for your characters and a little voice in the back of your head says “maybe I should really do this…”
DO IT.
Seriously, there are a million more instances where you can turn around and say “well, that’s not gonna work.” But it doesn’t matter how stupid something sounds in the beginning, if you get that little tingle of excitement or interest when you think of something that seems absurd, SIT YOUR ASS DOWN AND GET TO WORK.
Your magnum opus might not come out of “What if my OTP were magically transformed into lizards?” but who knows where else it’s going to take you?
I’ve had times where this philosophy has helped me create stuff that sounds like a crazy person’s nightmare, I’ve had times where I’ll post something and no one will like it or even read it, but I’ve also had times where I wrote something that I liked so much that it didn’t matter what other people thought because it was what I wanted to read.
Best of all, though, is that it gives you permission to work on your other stuff with out that little judgemental you yelling from your head. “That’ll never work! It’s implausible! It’s OOC! It’s already been done!”
You know what grumpy negative voice floating around in my head? You might be right. But I once wrote a story about a fork that was in love with a toaster, so if you think I’m not gonna try this now, you’re fucking wrong. And it’s allowing yourself to try bad things that usually gets you to good ones.
So write your crack, write your what ifs, write that dirty little pwp that you won’t let anyone else read.
If nothing else, it’ll take you from stressing about getting words on paper to enjoying it, and sometimes half the fight is just getting over how intimidating it is to write anything at all.