Some day
everything I’ve loved
will have
gone away from me
#hotd#daeron targaryen#aemond targaryen#daemon targaryen#helaena targaryen



seen from Morocco
seen from China
seen from China
seen from China

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Tunisia
seen from Russia
seen from Sweden
seen from Russia
seen from United Kingdom

seen from Malaysia
seen from Morocco
seen from Mexico
seen from China
seen from Russia

seen from United States

seen from Russia
seen from Spain
Some day
everything I’ve loved
will have
gone away from me
It's mid April and the beginning of spring feels like a distant memory. The feeling of a gentle sun pushing through the frosty mist of winter has given way to heat that feels like needles prickling the skin. Next weeks forecast looks to be much more traditional of April showers so I decided to help my dad a little around the garden. We levelled some paving and talked a bit about any changes to make. He wanted to move a small drystone wall from the front garden to the back but hadn't decided where or what he wanted to do with it. To me it felt like he was just moving one problem just to make another problem somewhere else which prompted me to say, "if this were my garden I'd..." and proceeded to rattle off a small list of things.
He laughed and half jokingly remarked that if I plan it all out then he'll do the work. We shook hands to make it a deal, though we both know neither intends to follow through. But the little, miniature monologue version of me that lives inside my head took a step back and wondered why I'd made a point of some future hypothetical garden that would be 'mine' being made the way 'I' want it. As though it isn't possible for me to enjoy someone else's garden. As though physical labour can't feel rewarding if it isn't directed toward something only I own. In reality, I'll likely be living at my dad's for the foreseeable future so it makes sense to think of it as 'our' garden even if I don't legally own it. Even if I'm not the dictator of the land I can still work and partake and enjoy it.
I sat along this train of thought for a few stops, watching the landscape of my mind slowly shifting until I realised that this perception of I'll enjoy 'x' more when 'y' is mine. That it doesn't really make any sense. Why must we only consider something enjoyable when it becomes ours? Why can we not enjoy the communal in the same way? Why do we not consider the communal as a place of shared ownership?
It's not likely that I'll have my own garden for quite some time so I may as well sink my hands into the earth where I am now and enjoy the process for what it is in its present form. My father's garden is a blessing and it's a blessing I get to experience and share in, why should I bar myself from this?
Came up with a word to describe my current wips to my friend, gayification. Now I want two shirts.
One that reads, I came. I saw. I gayified.
Another that reads, Too good for boys and too bad for girls. >.<
Hi all, this is my new blog where I hope to ramble about the realities of life as an average woman. I generally use my blogs as cathartic journals so be prepared to read puddles of psychological vomit from my tired and unboundaried mind.
Enjoy the chaos 😉
...
the more friends I lose, the deeper my love runs for ones I have left.
...
this quarantine really slowed things down, makes you realize how alone you really are.
..no one understands how much I hate humanity...