Just some thoughts…
I want to be better and do things in my life. Lately I’ve been trying hard and so has my partner. To better ourselves in little ways and do the things we’ve been wanting to do. To get better about not putting stuff off and actually being active more, going outside, cleaning more, organizing, etc. I’m trying to work on my dermatillomania, which has gotten out of hand recently. My partner is trying to help keep me accountable. Etc, etc…
But every day I look at what is going on in the world, what atrocities and loss of rights are happening both far away and closer to home, and I feel so exhausted. More than usual from chronic fatigue and pain and mental illness. It’s so hard to go on knowing these things are happening and that there’s very little I can actually do, especially when it’s a struggle just to do my day to day stuff.
I’m trying to keep going and trying to focus on my small day to day things and maybe donate or spread some info here and there but ultimately I feel like I should be doing more. Both for myself and the rest of the world. I’m so privileged to be in the position I’m in now, having a safe home and some degree of financial security despite not currently working, plus a loving partner that supports me in so many ways. There’s been a lot going on in my personal life, with my aging parents, with trying to get my shit together little by little, doctors appointments, etc.
I know I’m supposed to keep going but I’m so tired and sore all the time, and my mental state is different every day. It’s rare to wake up and feel some positivity that is stronger than the sorrow and fatigue… It feels wrong to try not to think about all the bad things in the world bc they are real and happening to others less lucky than I am, and I’m not really sure what the balance should be, of being aware of all the bad but also not getting too overwhelmed with it so I can work on myself and my issues…
It’s just a lot all the time and I want to just escape. I want to be able to help people and animals and I want to want to do things with my life but it’s all so much and it never stops and I don’t know how to feel or what I should do. I want to be able to keep that balance some people seem to have, where they somehow have enough energy and positive mindset to do things… How do I get there??? Is it even a possibility? I’m so tired.
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honestly just in general it's very exhausting to try to analyze media that is literally meant to be analyzed, only for the replies to be filled with people arguing not against your analysis, but against the premise that the media can be analyzed at all.
i don't even know what to say about it without starting to really betray my frustration, so i'll just settle with— just don't engage with analysis posts? I'm serious. if you're typing a response to a media analysis post, reread what you've written and ask yourself "is this comment/response against the very concept of analyzing the media at all?" and if the answer is yes then delete it all and go sit in the shame corner. throw your curtains away if you want to so bad and stop telling me that I'm not allowed to hum and haw at the fact mine are blue
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THOUGHT GAINED: INFERNAL ENGINES
PROBLEM
The world is ending. You know it, your neighbor knows it, the dealer knows it, the jailer knows it, the king and all his men know it. All one has to do is look around to see it— the future is curdling into something pale and incorporeal. The infernal machine that is this stupid world is going to blow, sooner rather than later. So what are you doing? Why are you still here? Why is anyone still here?
SOLUTION
You are doing the only thing worth doing. You are living. *Why,* you ask? Try and remember now. Remember your mother’s hand on your shoulder. Remember the taste of a fresh catch. Remember the times when you were kind to the dogs in the valley and they did not bare their teeth. Remember the weight of a child on your shoulders. Remember the stars throwing their light against the wall of sodium and smog. Remember singing until your throat was raw. Remember crying just as loudly and publicly, and the gentleness with which someone opened your curled fist and pressed a handkerchief into your palm. Crying, laughing, running, eating, screaming, haunting, loving, fighting, fighting, fighting. The fight fuels you, and you fuel the fight. You run yourself ragged just for a chance to keep running. You never stop. You cannot stop. The world depends on it. *You* are the infernal engine. You are the world. And, simply put: you want to live.
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Shoutout to all the other adults who have acne or any other condition of the skin that you are expected to outgrow or "just deal with."
Adulthood isn't this magical time where everything just disappears, and the reality is that these skin conditions are largely genetic. It isn't your fault (nor your skin's fault) that you are an adult with different skin than other people. In fact, it's neutral (and even, dare I say, good!).
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tease tidbit tuesday
it's Tuesday somewhere so starting it off early lol
after 7x09 I had like 4 new ideas (plus maaaany more non-episode related ideas, istg lately there's so many, I don't know what to focus on lol my brain feels loud, and I feel like I'm writing a hundred things at once, I've been a chaotic mess this month istg) but for now im trying to focus on this one fic, and trying to finish whatever this is before the next episode
for now, here's a bit of bucktommy at the medal ceremony after the encounter with gerrard
___
He could punch Gerrard in the face. He really wants to, and if it was a couple years ago, he probably would – but he’s at a work event, the guy is a Captain, unfortunately, and Buck just got a medal, he’s not risking his job right now. He’s not the same impulsive kid he was seven years ago. He’s heard enough stories from Chimney and Hen, and recently some vague ones from Tommy, to know that he hates their old Cap. Tommy seems to want to open up to Buck, to let Buck truly know him, but talking about that past, about himself back then, about the whole environment is not easy, and Buck gets that. They have time to get to know each other, neither of them is going anywhere. Buck’s certainly not planning to, and when Tommy says he isn’t, either, Buck finds himself trusting him, which is very new but so exciting.
“It’s- well, it was to be expected.” Tommy shrugs, his face a careful, neutral mask that Buck’s just starting to learn to see past, then sits down when they approach the table, putting his plate down – they’re sharing it with Eddie, Marisol and Christopher, but the three of them are still at the buffet getting food. Buck takes a seat next to him, then scoots his chair closer – close enough that their knees touch, but far enough that they still appear professional. “It just threw me off. Actually, threw me twenty years back for a moment.” he huffs an unamused, bitter laugh.
___
no pressure tags: @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @loserdiaz @ladydorian05 @diazpatcher @monsterrae1 @weewootruck @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @bidisasterevankinard @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @buddieswhvre @fortheloveofbuddie @daffi-990 @hoodie-buck @aroeddiediaz @thewolvesof1998 @exhuastedpigeon @underwaterninja13 @spotsandsocks @hippolotamus @your-catfish-friend @dangerpronebuddie @neverevan @loveyouanyway @tizniz @theotherbuckley @diazsdimples
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Previous // Next
Oscar: So…
[Robin sighed dramatically; he could’ve guessed where this was going even if he wasn’t privy to his father’s thoughts]
Oscar: What’re you gonna do, sue me for not believing you?
Robin: [snorts] He’s not bothering me, dad.
Oscar: So, why don’t you talk to him-.. or anyone else at school for that matter.
Robin: People don’t usually care what you’re saying, they’re just waiting for their turn to talk.
Oscar: C’mon, not everyone’s like that.
Robin: Okay.. but what if they don’t like what you say? Like, I say something and they think – oh, that was weird – and then I’m like, wow I wish I hadn’t said that and it’s super awkward and cringe.
[Robin fiddled with his fingers, intent on convincing Oscar that anxiety was the culprit. It was easier than explaining the truth; that he could barely think straight amongst everyone else’s thoughts, that couldn’t be arsed, didn’t see the point, found people boring, yada yada]
Oscar: Y’know people don’t usually think that whilst you’re talking, right? It’s mostly in our own heads.
Robin: Okay, dad.
Oscar: Wow, can’t imagine where you get that sarcasm from…
Robin: ‘Course not… They do though-.. think that, y’know.
Oscar: I think that’s just the social anxiety talking, spud.
Robin: And?
Oscar: And, you’ve gotta work on your fear-…
Robin: It’s not a fear, it’s a fact.
[Oscar rolled his eyes as Robin sloped off; it was like arguing with himself]
Oscar: Robin…
Robin: See, you didn’t like my response so.. point proven, huh?
[Robin hovered by the doorframe, wearing a smirk so similar to his own that Oscar couldn’t help but chuckle fondly]
Oscar: Tch, get outta here!
Robin: Love you, byeeeee.
Oscar: [snort laughs] Love you too, bud.
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