Maybe I should just give up
A year and nothing has changed.
Words are said and exchanged
And I care about him a lot
And maybe he thinks he does too
But I’m afraid it’s not the same
He says he’s too scared to step up
But if I was in his shoes I still would’ve tried
Because now all we can think about are the what ifs and the what was and the whys
I’m so tired of wanting to wait for you
But I know how a love like this may come
off too strong so maybe it’s just bad timing
But sometimes I wish you did what you didn’t

I don’t have an extensive amount of details regarding the Moana no-love-interest tweet, but just taking it at face value (and not delving into any implications and what-ifs that may reside in between the lines), I’m exceptionally pleased with that direction. Far too many stories in which women are the central figure are based around love and/or marriage as being the reward and pinnacle of their narrative. Finding a prince, being rescued by the (male) hero, finding true love, etc.

It’s an old trope, but it’s also a social standard that has woven its way into the fabric of society. Unmarried women of a certain age are called spinsters (or worse). Women who have no interest in marriage and/or children (or hey, relationships with men in general) are treated as though they carry some scourge or blight - there’s something wrong with them, that’s not normal, it’s some phase they’re going through, when are they going to come to their senses. It’s an expectation and a part of the template thrust upon women, ingrained in life lessons and seemingly innocent comments and behaviors - to be fulfilled, to be whole, a woman needs to find a man/husband/love.

There’s no room in that equation for not wanting a significant other. There’s no room for love that may exist on a platonic level, no matter the level of emotional intimacy. There’s simply no room for anything other than the heteronormative happily ever after and how that’s supposed to be the grand prize in this thing we call life.

Seldom are women in stories seeking adventures for adventure’s sake, or on some quest wherein they find the lost city, the lost treasure, the sacred weapon, etc., *without* getting tangled up in some love affair with the one guy they encounter along the way. Not to mention that seldom are women who are introduced in a man’s story allowed to be a solid partner in crime, friend, or associate, instead of the sexual prize, the kiss-who-becomes-kidnapped, the dame who falls for the swaggering anti-hero, and so forth.

So… Moana. Again, at face value, I’m hoping this ushers in more story-telling in which women are shown as not being dependent upon a romantic relationship in order to assess their own worth, or deem themselves content and accomplished. Their lives need many chapters - multiple adventures (and misadventures), and various tales through which lessons are learned, knowledge is gained, maybe even super powers are acquired, without hinging those positives on the existence of a love interest.

Let these fictional ladies grow and shape their identities on matters that are not based on old standards and social norms. And let them have love in their lives, but let that love be inclusive of sisterhood and friendship, and all the bonds that are born out of respect and trust.

Prince Charming need not apply.

7 confessions.

1. If you told me 4 months ago I would end up losing my three best friends I probably wouldn’t believe you although there would be that doubt in my mind screaming “MAYBE YOU WILL” from the deep corners of my worries and fears.

2. The bruises you gave me two years ago are no longer physically present yet I still feel the pain and sometimes I swear they’re still there because it hurts so much and it all hits me at 3 PM when I’m walking down a lonely road and I see something that reminds me of you. It still hits me all at once and I’m not ok for the next month.

3. I lay awake in bed till 3, 4, or even 5 AM thinking of “what ifs” or “how abouts” until my head is pounding and the room is spinning because it’s a possibility my life could have been so much better if I had kept my mouth shut or spoke more often and it’s reopening old wounds with old memories thinking maybe the way it ended could have been better.

4. People ask me what my biggest fear is and I tell them the ocean but in all honesty my biggest fear is fear itself because I do stupid things when I’m scared to get rid of that stupid cloud that hangs over my head that has me looking over my shoulder and chewing on my nails and I’ll down a bottle of whiskey to myself just to get rid of the darkness and I swear in that moment it won’t even burn.

5. Sometimes, and only sometimes I will remember, and it will hurt, It will lay heavy on my chest like a burden. It will hit me hard and knock the wind out of me. It will weigh down on my shoulders and not for the next hour or the next day but for the next week. I will remember and it will haunt me and the only way I know how to cope is to drown out the voices with poisons.

6. I miss it. I miss the warm bubbly feeling that spreads across my chest and down into my stomach after the first shot. I miss the comfort of knowing that for One whole night I will be able to forget. To forget everything, good or bad. To the point of forgetting your name and mine. I will forget what you did to me and what I did to myself. I will forget fights with my parents and fights with my friends. I will forget the friends I lost and the ones I’ve gained that don’t compare. I will forget what I need do.

7. I miss myself.

—  7 confessions at 2:18 AM

Part 1: “My son was murdered for no reason. On the night of his murder, he and a group of his friends were headed to a Somali wedding. He was surprised to see his mother there who told him to leave as it was a ‘women only’ wedding. They left without asking questions. He was driving with three passengers in the car with him. As he was driving, a vehicle that was behind his car fired indiscriminately, striking him in the back of the head. One bullet to the back of the head killed my beautiful son who was my world. His mother regrets to this day asking him to leave. But, if we question destiny and preoccupy ourselves with ‘what ifs’, madness would slowly creep in, and the healing process can never run begin. We chose and asked ourselves …“

(Seattle, United States)

Qeybta 1aad: "Wiilkaygii gacan ka xaq daran baa dishay. Habeenkii dilku dhacay, isaga iyo saaxiibbadiis way tageen aroos Soomaali. Wuxuu ku arkay hooyadiis oo ku tiri, arooskan haweenka oo kali ah baa loogu talo galay ee iska taga. Qadar kadib way iskaga soo baxeen. Saddex qof baa gaariga la saarna oo asxaabtiis a. Gaari ka dambeeyey baa rasaas aan sooc lahayn ku furay. Mid ka mid ah rasaastaas lagu furay ayaa madaxa kaga dhacay wiilkaygii. Kadib wuu dhintay aniguna sidaas baan ku waayey wiilkaygii aan jeclaa. Hooyadiis ilaa hadda waxay isweydiisa, maxaad arooska ugu ceeriisay. Laakin Qadar Alle ahayd oo hadaan markasta ku mashquulno, tolow hadii aan sidaas sameen lahaa, waalli baa ku so galaysa, habkii bogsashada ah iyo aqbalida inay tahay Qadar Alle baa dib u dhacaya. Waxaannu dooranay oo is weydiiney …”

(Seattle, Maraykanka)

affectos  asked:

While I'm not a kin person, I want to ask, if a kin person wanted to tag a post that they related too, is there a tag you would feel comfortable with them using instead?

uh…just dont do it please. No buts ands or ifs.

  • A life, denied,
     Comatosis, comatosis, comatosis,
     Comment on my word,
     Define, my words define,
     My words define, my words define,
     My words define the line, the line ”
Blink Of Another Life

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2angBw8

by van_daalen

When a stray shot breaks Tracer’s lifeline, her chronal accelerator, the Brit panics and tries to turn back the clock. But instead of rewinding to before the shot, she is transported to another timeline… a timeline far different from her own. She finds herself in a world where Lena Oxton never reappeared, Talon never kidnapped Amélie, and Widowmaker was never created. As she gets her chance to ‘make things right’, she is forced to learn that sometimes 'what ifs’ aren’t as pretty as they seem.

Words: 1266, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2angBw8

Was digging through old folders for SDCC, and got a huge nostalgia attack of old ROTG comics/stories I never finished. 

I can’t even tell when I’ll have the time to do comics again, but I hope to. It’s fun to tell “what ifs” stories.

These cleaned-up and rough pages are part of a larger story. In this “sequence” excerpt, they are trying to find books that are mysteriously disappearing.

(apologies, been a while since I posted. Really really really busy)

Maybe, I’m more attracted to the fantasy instead of the reality- the what could bes, the what ifs, the maybes, the dreams, the plans - but when I get a taste of that reality, it’s a cold splash of realization when i see what’s in front of me isn’t the same as what’s inside my mind - the daydream is glittery compared to the dullness of the truth when laid out in front of you.

Keep reading

If you truly like her then be about her and no one else. Don’t pay attention to who else she may or may not be talking to. At the end of the day, what she does with anyone else isn’t your concern cause you’re not together, so keep you focus only on what you two share. Stop worrying and letting a bunch of “what ifs” cloud your judgment. Regardless of the outcome, it’s in your best interest that you only focus on what’s important, and that’s her. With most things in life this is a lot easier said than done but it’s an invaluable trait and worth the time it takes to attain.

There was never a you and I because you were never mine. But that feeling never ceases to hit me like a brick wall when I accidentally find everything I want in another human and I know they’re within reach. It feels like if I stretch out my fingertips just enough I can grasp on and my red will merge with their blue. But I grasp and I grasp and just when I think I’ve gotten a hold, it’s but a whisp and I’ve missed again and they’re gone. It always makes me feel like something about me isn’t good enough and I get lost in the thoughts of the what ifs. What if, the timing had been different? Or, what if, I was a little more of this. Or lot less of this? But I’m learning good people get good people. Patience is key. Take life a day at a time, take it slow, and if it is meant to be it will be.