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paradiseyuri · 2 years

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✿.｡.:* ♀ *.:｡✿｡:.* ♀ *.｡.✿ Created By:||☆moha☆ respective credits to the creator ✿.｡.:* ♀ *.:｡✿｡:.* ♀ *.｡.✿ ⓟⒶⓇⒶⒹⒾⓈⒺ♡ⓎⓊⓇⒾ

#Yuri #Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury #suletta x miorine #Miorine Rembran #Girls Love #GL #Life story #!Lindo¡#Suletta Mercury #Art by #moha #¡Please support the artist in pixiv!

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ketrindoll · 7 months

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This is the story of Antanas Gedminas. A simple man from Mosedis, Lithuania

He was forcefully deported, like many other people, by the russians in 1947. He was 40 years old, sent to Gulag in Karagand, Kazakhstan without any documents or personal items, barely dressed.

While in exile, he decided to walk back home, to Lithuania. The walking journey of 4000 kilometers with no maps and no way to ask for help. Soviets used to shoot those who tried to escape.

Having found a crumpled up and binned document, he pretended to be deaf and mute, and walked from station to station, using rail tracks as a way to navigate. He would walk at nights and sleep on days. More than once he was severely beat up. Sometimes he would take the train, hidding behind the wagon tool box.

When he reached Ukraine, he had to cross the Dnipro river. He did it by hugging a floating tree trunk. Because he was very exhausted, he went house to house begging for food and help. In one of such houses he found an executed Ukrainian family.

After three months of journey he finally reached Lithuania, his native Samogitia. When he came home his family couldn't recognize him - he weigh barely 50 kilos.

He later started a family, having 4 sons. Today he would've been 116 years old.

#story #life story #humans #lithuania #ukraine #russia #exile

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cyber-corp · 4 months

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When I was about 3-4 years old I asked my mum at the shops if I could have some candy.

My mum politely said something along the lines of “That’s the American word, try using the proper word instead!”

This fucked up my speech patterns royally because I now pronounce words like “dance” and “chance” with a silly sounding “arn” sound.

All because I instead of asking for lollies, I asked for “carndy”.

Cheers mum.

#moral of the story: you too can beat americanisation #life story #orthoepy #gecko boy

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clemsharmony · 5 months

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fake anime still / manga colouring!

i accidentally made this in far too low of a resolution, but by the time i realised it was too late to turn back, so they're kind of blurry. my bad.

#manga spoilers #togachako #himichako #uraraka ochako #toga himiko #himiko's shading needed reworking but i did not want to #so i pushed it aside and said “i'll get to it later” and then never did #life story #manga colouring

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briizer · 5 months

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I am still watching the world burn.

A call back to this

#briizart #life story #I’ve been busy babysitting #I’m a bad older cousin #and bad human being

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punkpandapatrixk · 9 months

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🔻Tier 3 Patron-exclusive PAC at the end🔻

☆°・. Hustlin’ a la Goddess .・°☆ | Punk Girl Culture

A while back on Pinterest I saw a really cool quote like this: ‘I hustle like a man because I was raised not to depend on one.’ I understood what it’s trying to say and where it’s coming from; and above all, it really is an empowering idea considering how many women in this world are totally loser-like because their willpower is weak HA But the thing about that quote is…

It got me reminiscing about how I used to be a terrible, terrible workaholic caused by a toxic childhood that had been the complete opposite of that. In my past reality, I hustled like a man exactly because I had been groomed to depend on one. KABOOM!

In a toxic household was a psychopath that worked devilishly hard at having little girls believe that a woman is inherently—by nature—dependent on men. That our survival is at the mercy of men’s charity. Thus a woman must seek to marry a rich man if she wishes to live a happy life. Mind you, this wasn’t a simple case of a shallow Boomer who had grown up in a different era; this really was a psychopath who delighted in creating false realities for little girls to grow up and become absolute losers, in the hope that they never would surpass—never would become better than her.

I was only seven when I began to give that narrative a fuckton of thought. I loathed the idea that a woman is this kind of a helpless creature only because she was born with a vagina; that a woman would never survive without a man’s protection or provision; that a woman’s highest priority in life is to be attractive enough (whatever that means) to seduce a rich man so he wants to marry her. I LOATHED IT. I fucking despised it. What an insult to Love!

At any rate, by age seven, I had come to notice the bullshit that was often spewed by that psychopath. I refused to accept that degrading idea so I began to think and behave differently. I thought to myself one afternoon in the shower:

‘So a marriage is only necessary because of the money, right? But that’s an old people thing. This is a different era—I will make my own money when I grow up. So then, that means I don’t need to get married. I won’t allow myself to become dependent on a man. I don’t want it.’

And so it was that I grew up to become a hustler more resilient than most men because I wanted to rebel against the grooming of the psychopath. It was like a weird coping mechanism or overcompensation or something—not sure which term is more correct LMAO I grew up wanting to be seen as tough and not needing a man’s gentlemanly assistance. I hated being helped by men like, what, you think I can’t help myself? I was always able to help myself.

The problem is… I became way too tough. Waaay too tough for one short girl. I had come to hold myself to impossible standards. I thought that if a man could manage to do this or that, I should be able to do and achieve just the same. My brain is very capable! What’s stopping me?!

The reality of the limits of my physiology (tiny!🤪) as well as my psychology as an autistic girl had not become clear to me at this point. But as the wheel of fortune would have it, at some point in Life my eyes were opened to the very idea of my girlhood and I woke up to the realisation that a woman shouldn’t have to work so hard in Life. DIVINE FEMININE, BEBEH!

One cold and rainy October evening I was lying on my bed, broke as fuck, single as a stick, hungrier and lonelier than a stray cat, feeling all defeated in Life I thought about all of this and repeated to myself quite amusingly miserably:

‘I’m a girl. I’m just a girl. And a really tiny one at that. I shouldn’t have to work so hard. I don’t wanna have to work so hard. I shouldn’t be made to work SO hard. I wanna be someone’s baby girl!’

And I cried and I cried about the fact that I had been so unkind to myself as a girl. That I had allowed society to convince me that it was okay to be so impatient with myself in the name of professionalism! And I cried and I cried because now I was realising I’m really such a soft lovely polite girl who had been forced to fight for I didn’t even know what for the longest time trying to just meet the expectations of a batshit crazy world full of terribly gaslighty psychopaths…

I cried for three days straight, no cap. My youth… My entire Life… For what… And where did that lead me? It’s given me nothing. NOTHING.

By the end of the third day, I made a resolve to treat myself more kindly, more gently because girls are meant to be held with tender care and Love♥︎For the first time in my Life I was able to wholeheartedly accept that I was a girl LMAO That sounds funny but I wasn’t struggling with gender dysphoria—no, I don’t think that ever was the case but… umm… though I always liked the fact that I was a girl, somehow, there was also a part of me that used to view myself as just-a-14-year-old-boy-who-likes-to-play-video-games. I couldn’t even comprehend why I had an appearance that would be considered attractive by men💩

At any rate, so it was that I had held myself captive to impossibly stupid standards of conducts because I wasn’t aware enough of my biology, physiology, as well as psychology as a Goddess! Thinking about it now, it’s so bizarre I lived like that and even managed to survive pushing myself so hard even on those motherfucking days of murderous cramps *wink wink* One time I shed tears feeling so sorry to my younger self because I wasn’t gentle or patient enough with her.

I think the feminine force is supposed to be the embodiment of love and comfort. I think being a girl means I am deserving of an effortless existence. Say what you want if you’re a feminazi, but I want to live enveloped in lightness and ease. I think a girl deserves to be taken care of unconditionally because she’s so complexly fragile and delicate. No, it’s not a weakness. A flower’s delicateness is not a failure. Nor is a butterfly’s fragility useless.

We, are creatures of beauty. And when I was awakened to that reality, I learnt that the first thing I needed to do was stop being an enemy to my fragile beauty. I resolved to hold my femininity in highest regard and not continue to hurt myself with unrealistic expectations based on the male standards of conduct. It had to start with myself because the brainwashed world outside of me was never going to give this to me.

‘I simply do not want to hustle like a man anymore. I don’t think it suits me at all. More important, I don’t think the way men hustle is the standard of a good character! I don’t think they know what they’re doing.’

I, am a feminine force, baby—I don’t chase; I attract. When I hustle, I’m gonna hustle a la Goddess because that’s what I AM. The feminine, the yin, the abstract, holds the magick of the creation of the Universe. Literally I can manifest all I need effortlessly by just breathing calmly and being pretty—in harmony with the melodies of the Cosmic Vibrations💗

Gosh, why didn’t I figure this out earlier?!

I think I’ve now made peace with the homme and femme within though. I think, I’ve pretty much stopped being angry about the ways I used to hustle like a man—posing numerous dangers to myself both physically and spiritually. Ecologically, bish, that wouldn’t have been sustainable in the grander scheme of things!

I still have alternating days I feel more like an homme and a femme every so often but I’ve got to say I like me best on the days I feel most indulgently girly👗On such days, I feel the world is so fine because I’m a woman👒I feel everything is just gonna fall into place eventually because my Goddess Magick is taking care of my Reality. All is well in Divine Timing, my baby girl🎀

And god forbid—I don’t need no man to give that to me either!😉

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PGC Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings]

🍃🪨🍄🧚🏻‍♂️

🔻Tier 3 Patron-exclusive PAC🔻

[Breaking Conventions with Determined Softness]

your glamorous talent

empowering the soft girl

hustlin' a la Goddess

🍃🪨🍄🧚🏻‍♂️

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whats-in-a-sentence · 4 months

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"The Complete Maus" - Art Spiegelman

#book quotes #maus #art spiegelman #nonfiction #life story #books #stationary bike

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anastasiamaru · 9 months

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Serhiy Shyshko

Was born on June 25 1911

The artist Serhiy Shyshko was born in the village of Nosiwka.In 1919, his family moved to the city of Nizhyn. The fondest childhood memories of the artist are associated with Nizhyn. Memories of his first drawing teacher, Petro Lapu, two years of teaching drawing in Nizhyn schools, marriage, and the birth of his daughter. In Nizhyn, he painted cityscapes and enjoyed the beauty of the city.

"Gogol Institute" 1938.Nizhyn

The artist studied at the Kyiv Art Institute and the leningrad Institute of painting, sculpture and architecture. In 1942-1943, Shyshko was evacuated to Samarkand, where he painted a series of Samarkand landscapes. From 1943 to 1944, he lived in russia, and during that period, he also created a series of studies. In 1944, he moved to Kyiv, and Kyiv became the main subject of his art, although he also painted still lifes, landscapes of the Carpathian and Crimean regions, sketches of Shevchenko's places, and front-line studies.

"Fountain" 1951

Pershotravnevy Park 1966

Hreshchatyk 1967

Still life 1969

The works of Serhiy Shyshko are among the most expensive at Ukrainian auctions.Towards the end of his life, Shyshko focused solely on still life paintings, mastering the technique of pastel.

1988 1989

The artist passed away in 1997 and is buried at Baikove Cemetery.

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sullenange1 · 29 days

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i usually don’t talk much on here but i am so nervous about later today. if you’ve been following me for awhile you know that two years ago i got rejected from my dream school (barnard) and it really crushed me. i got mugged during college admission season and sustained a concussion (and some other shit happened) so i was only able to apply to about 3 schools.

i ended up going to a school i knew nothing about because it was the only university i got into. it was going fine until my dad went missing shortly after i moved into my dorm. not knowing where he was crushed me and my grades started to tank, so i decided to take some time off of school. the police didn’t look for him. they immediately dropped his case and put no effort into finding him, and i spiraled. this was 2022.

i spent most of 2023 trying to cope with how the person who understood me the most was missing. during this time i realized that transferring schools was probably in my best interest, as the university i was attending was one of the last places i saw my dad and i had so many bad memories there. in october of 2023 i was informed that my father had been found in september the year before. 14 months of my life were spent in agony, but finally i had closure.

now i want to move forward with my life. i hear back from my top university choice in 13-15 hours. i’ve had so much bad luck and heartbreak over the past two years so i would appreciate it if you all could pray for me, or if you’re not religious just send me good luck. getting into this school means so much to me, and i just hope the admissions officers were able to see through my bad grades during my first year of uni, and see me as a person who was coping with uncertainty and loss. if you’ve read this far, thank you so much! i’ll be sure to update on the status of my admission <3

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gameraboy2 · 6 months

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Life Story #27 (1951)

#life story #1951 #1950s #vintage #romance #romance comics #comics

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thepowerisyouth · 2 months

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MONEY / FINANCE STRESS CONTENT WARNING, this next line is unfortunately quite stressful about money so this was an important warning for me to add:

This is also less for the random strangers on the internet who have no reason to trust my advice but more for the 10-15 people I know personally who trust my money advice based on prior experience and Ive sent them my blog link in the last month or two

US stock market is about to tank. On a global perspective its stupidly overpriced because markets like China are hitting 5 year lows (as in we've increased our stock market over 2x since "COVID lows", but their market is even lower than it was then.

Timing is hard but it is entirely possible yesterday was the peak of the market. Might also not tank for 6 months.

Market psychology is fucking weird tho so please absolutely dont 'short' anything, which is basically the same as 'buying puts'. Michael Burry nearly bankrupted all his friends, family, and random investors by insisting on 'shorting' things based on knowledge of impending crisis.

Just sell everything. I mean literally everything. Bond etfs might go up but youd have to have eyes glued to the charts to sell in time. Gold wont do, neither will bitcoin. Their negative correlation to stocks isnt really a thing anymore.

Get every etf, stock, whatever into cash in the brokerage account, then move it out of the banks/brokerage firms and into something physically in front of you because we are, in fact, in another 'historical period of bank runs' its just not quite at the peak yet.

Not trying to increase anxiety beyond nessecary-- its just that any, single bank can immediately freeze your money-- leaving it up to the Federal Government to pay you back-- and it might possibly be the case that youd have to rely on whats called a "bank bail in" to see your savings again.

Not a fun situation to be in, even if it wont happen to most people its just safe practice to do this during a "historical period of bank runs"

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This blog is basically my diary of my thoughts (suprise suprise). But Im an open book, privileged (but poor) little white boy with complex societal/generational abuse and very little home problems so lets fucking go theres a whole mormon cargo van to unpack

Definitely recommend tags Im terrible at them.

---

To those reading this, if you have ever met me in real-life or on the internet than you have taught me varying degrees of information which can be randomly retrieved by my brain at any time depending on current CPU performance. Thoughts of my loving husband have occupied my headspace probably 95% of my time since 14 so he has absolutely taught me at least 100x more than anyone else in the world.

When I say "I", oftentimes Im thinking about "me and my husband", or even sometimes "me and my friends/family", or even sometimes "me and society"--- but I am not always 100% aware of the current headspace environment and/or beliefs of the minds of those around me without feedback

---

There are currently over 8 billion individual varieties of the global human language spoken within the mind. Lets start translating them all. Misunderstood words become mean labels.

I fucking hate mean labels

"Math wiz" = racism and/or classism and/or gender shit. Fuck that shit

When a person is niched off into one part of an 8 billion population human society, it becomes impossible to not "live in a bubble". Bubbles change in size constantly even if not visibly observed. Bubbles can be different sizes depending on your current day-to-day thoughts of your own society. Bubbles must pop. Enlightenment implies life only gets better the more times ya pop and lock it

My path away from purely mathematics, logic, and scientific theory began when I met my husband, and for the first time in my life it became important to me not to be an asshole to everyone around me

Ive been told (only after I started dating my traumatized husband tho and helped him heal a lot) that I'm a natural communicator-- and all my life I found myself listening and learning to everything and everyone around me trying to understand both their and my own motivations-- then I like to garble them up and spit 'em out. My memory recall ability is wonky tho and fluctuates highly with nutrient intake-- I'll get into that later

I wish I could have a million years to read every blog on tumblr. I really do. Connecting & communating is extremely important for understanding one another but it takes time

I had an extremely unique childhood (who hasnt lol), enough so to isolate myself quite a lot through sheer dumb luck. My mom is also everyone's favorite school teacher so of course I was learning a lot from a young age. Luckily I glued myself to the first person who wanted to glue themselves to me equally & we grew exponentially closer to eternity

If its still not clear: my husband and I are bored and love chatting with people, but like most internet loving freaks my mouth don't work sometimes well but my fingies do. My ears got fluff a lot but I got eyes for LEDs like a hawk. Wish they werent LED tho

I also have a naturally short sleep cycle (i.e. extra time for this), and I really wont be offended or weirded out by someone reading through and liking 20+ or whatever of my posts at once randomly. Stories are supposed to be read in chunks, and I think of this blog as a story & also workspace for my thoughts that Id love to see which chapters everyone has read through. Also I love (and only respond positively to) positive feedback, yet also suggestions for ways to improve my "theorums". As in, good faith discussions are totally welcome on any post.

For my 50 year old parents reading my blog so lovingly in their limited evening time-- you can sort by tags to see what topics your familiar with, if you play around with the search function while on my page. Mom. Show dad how to do it

In the very, very bottom of my blog I dont even think I managed to tag shit properly-- but its the roughdraft workings of the philosophy, as well as my own logical framework for answering lifes questions. Its 2 months ago so I might not even be writing according to my own works down there anymore idk I change fast sometimes

Last thing for now here is that I was always criticized by teachers for not showing my work, and for not reviewing my tests before turning in, and I pushed back hard because nearly every time I went over and corrected a mistake-- I saw I most often got it right the first fucking time on a pure hunch. I act on impulse when I'm not meditating mostly for efficiency purposes because I believe I'm correct, but remain open to emotionally positive feedback so I can help remove all doubt.

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This might turn into my 'life story' post, as its already going there. Heres what I have so far in the way of my knowledge of my family before I was brought into existence, and my "earliest memories":

Family context:

I dont know jack shit. Nobody talks about it at all.

Here's my own observations Ive made using the framework and perceptive filters I was given--

My whole family is white Texans.

Ancestory is slaveowners of course, further back is a very likely direct parent-child descendent line from the most famous inbred british royalty of the 13th century i.e. King John, whose brother was the arab genociding Richard.

I would call my immediate family as upper poverty class. Its more like poverty with extra privileges cause mental health stigma was the only thing holding them back not other shit too.

As children we had a lot of very privileged opportunities because my parents made a lot of sacrifices to try and bring us back up the class ladder. Lets look into that generational trauma issue

My dads parents (born in the early 40s, dont know the year exactly. I think '43 or '44) were more upper middle class, pretty high income. Owned an insurance business that was very successful by the early 2000s at least. My grandpa is described to me as a "monster" and "violently abusive". I have a single memory of him screaming at me as a young child and I was cowering under a desk, so I really believe it. No other stories at all to provide context.

-- I gotta split this section off I realized I wrote the next thing about post-me context Ill need to move this part lower down later--

My grandpa got early onset dementia, my dad didnt notice in time, and my grandpa bankrupted his successful company and lost several million of dollars to "scammers and sexy ladies."

My dad found out around 2015-16 or so. He told me a little bit after telling me my grandparents were getting divorced. My dad managed to scrape together about $200,000 which is being sued for by the IRS actively.

(He split that money in two, and entrusted me tell him how to invest half in safe value stocks that I handpicked as well as a calculated risk allocation to bonds which we sold for 30% profit the second the market crashed. He gave the other half to a brokerage advisor. I never met the advisor but saw the results. Dont get me started on how the other dude did with that money-- we started this endeavor in January 2020.)

Personally I also dont believe that its possible to spend an entire fortune on scammers and strippers, so Id love to see his books and figure out what the hell went wrong with that asshole. I have a hunch I know something more than anyone else ("Enron", guys, we're talking about an insurance company in HOUSTON, in the 2000s) but I will never be sure without the books.

----

Back to other family--

I do not know a single thing about my grandma on my dads side. She raised me quite a lot, but yeah I literally have only heard her life described to me as "she was a housewife"

On my moms side, my Mimi (also born 1940s but slightly younger so I think 1946 or 1947) came from a divorced, upper middle class family. In 1964-65, She and her step mom both got knocked up the same year so she watched her divorced dad remarry to said step mom when she was 18-19 and getting a shotgun marriage herself, so you can imagine what that was like. The "biological" of the two moms was a very good mom and very queer from what I hear. She died when I was a baby, from lung cancer. Thats all I know. My mimi raised me quite a lot, nearly equally as much as my mom did

My mom's dad, my Papa, came from a rural farming family in East Texas. Dont know much else of anything, but he and his siblings were named "Billy, Bobby, and Betty". As in, they are what everyone likes to call "hicks"

Moving onto my direct parents now. I know a little more about them of course, but since we're getting closer in age to the present-- I think itll be easier to describe my understanding as common stereotypes. If its unclear what I mean definitely feel free to ask, but I'll probably say "I dont really know"

Not much else is relevant other than knowing that my moms family was the mormon one, but that as soon as my dad was love-bombed by the church he joined to. Mormons were also different in the 90s I'm told.

My dad struggled with being one of the "crazy schizos" of the 90s. As in, very traumatized, upset, and gaslit by the government and his parents. Must have done a damn good job dealing with it by the time he was in his late 20s and I popped out cause he was never a "bad dad" to me at all. Definitely yelled and was more angry at times, but less than any other friends parents Ive ever met, and from what I remember he came into my room at night and apologized to me literally every single time within like 5-10 minutes. I know pretty much nothing about him pre-me. He was a tradesman my whole life and specialized in remodeling kitchens & bathrooms (the 'dirty work of construction'). All his initial clientele were the rich people my grandma lived near and was friends with.

My mom would have been extremely queer-presenting and posting on tumblr if born in the year 2000, but was born in early 70s, and was a raegan teen in high-school in Texas during the satanic panic-- she presents completely cis, straight, but has body dysmorphia issues. Thats about you need to know about those issues I'm sure my tumblr folks can assume the rest and be perfectly correct. Cause thats about all I know too and I'm assuming the rest about my own mother

--- Earliest memories

I think a lot of people face doubt about their own earliest memories, maybe hearing the way I connect the images of these events in my head to my emotions I felt will help others do the same.

----

Two disclosers about me & my current healthcare discoveries before moving on

1) My only "major" childhood trauma is loneliness. I have a partner now (started dating early high school, nearing 10 years together now) who was just as lonely and we are glued to each others side constantly, and have made our life work great that way. So don't feel too bad reading this, I'm only able to write it down because Ive healed that trauma and can dig this stuff up with no issues to validate the emotions I felt even as a child

1) I believe I have a genetic trait that is only just getting discovered. There are something like 6 discovered mutations that hold this similar trait so far, and its just basically chronic insomia.

It being a genetic trait tracks with how my mom describes me as never settling into a normal sleep pattern at 6 months old, having absurd amounts of nightmares and death anxiety keeping me up at night as a child, and I still dont sleep at any given time. I average 2 hours less sleep than my husband, who averages 7-8 now that he isnt actively being abused at home.

Going to get sequenced but even if negative I'd probably just be a 7th mutation, as they only found the other 6 genes via case study.

The scientists whove discovered it call it "Familial Natural Short Sleeper", if you desire to look it up. They describe the trait like its the best possible thing in the world. Well... terminally chronic insomia is not the best thing in THIS world thats for sure.

---------

My "earliest memories"

These arent ranked by time accurately of course. Took enough effort digging through my brain to turn them up, not like Ive got a 2003 calendar stuffed in here as well.

I did do my best to sort by first memory but it also might be sorted by the order at which I recovered the memories as being one of my "earliest" when I was a child and asked such things

1. Pure emptiness. I can only describe it as dissociation. I can remember nothing about the environment around me, except feeling suddenly sucked out of it, seeing only darkness, feeling almost a ringing in my ears and the deepest dread possible. This same feeling followed me in life for a little while, but started to take more visual shape when I was an adolescent, until at some point I would see myself sitting in a chair alone in a room that is infinitely sized but that slowly gets darker the further out you go. I cant remember what exact "real-world" event caused this feeling to ever happen each time it did. I just can remember having it happen occasionally when I was awake and doing things. Definitely dissociation. (If you are willing to believe me further I think its just probably "lights out" and being scared of that)

1. Riding a mattress down the stairs. I kind of remember two images, one is the tunnel vision of going high speed down the stairs and the other would be from looking back up at the stairs when I was done going down. Totally fun, probably my first rollar coaster ride. I might remember my siblings laughing too but it wouldnt be because I can remember the actual laughing-- but I can remember feeling the joy of being in a group of people laughing. At the time, my parents were selling the house so thats why I also remember it being a completely empty carpeted room that we were riding down into

2. My brother smashing his head repeatedly into the refrigerator for 'fun' and someone saying "wow he has a hard head" or something along those lines. I was learning english I cant remember exactly what they said but that was definitely the meaning I took from their words. I think this memory is strong, because I was truly very curious as to why my brother was just running at full speed, head down, and headbutting a hard surface. The words someone said after that must have been one of my first 'answers'

3. Watching my siblings play in rare Houston snow. Not much remembering there actually. Probably just thought it was mezmorizing to watch as I just really remember a picture and feeling peace

4. Will add more later.