am imperfect

It hurts that I still don’t have that person who loves me and all of me. I don’t entirely mean romantically, I mean platonically as well. No one is willing to wake up at midnight to answer my silly questions because they know how much of a smile it puts on my face and warmth it spreads throughout my heart. No one is willing to ask why I always fall asleep in class but yet they always gawk and stare. No one is willing to be there for me when I cry and cry yet they always cock their heads and whisper to their friends asking them what’s wrong with me. No one is there when I need them most. No one is willing to put up with the true me. The me that’s too curious and always worries and cries like a baby and that rambles about stupid stuff like how long on average does it take sunflowers to grow. I always have to change myself somehow to fit into their mold but not my own. No one ever wonders about me or asks how I’m doing. No one questions why I get nervous sometimes in the middle of class or why I walk funny. They never ask why I always cry during the beginning of April. It’s like they all assume. They make up their own story that makes sense to them but god forbid they listened to the truth. People constantly assume they know your body and your soul and your desires but the second you tell them that they’re wrong, they get defensive as if they know better. People always try to convince me I’m something I’m not like that I’m not sick or I’m not sad or I’m not imperfect. But I am sick, and I am allowed to be sad, and I am most definitely imperfect. But they don’t take the time to realize all of that. They don’t bother getting to know me or making sure I’m okay. Making sure I eat enough or making sure that I am not feeling sick. Making sure that I feel validated and worthful and loved. I do that to everyone but not a single person does that to me. I hate it.
—  maybe if you asked, i would tell you
2

Something Just Like This ~Jeff Atkins x Reader~

Requested: Can I request a Jeff Atkins imagine about morning after with him. And like Jeff would be so cute whispering sweet nothings in his gfs ear while also saying some dirty jokes lolol omg I CANT

The human body contains an innumerable amount of nerve cells. The best we can do is estimate that there are some billion. It is incredible how there are billions of nerve cells working in our bodies and something as simple as the touch of one person can send all of those imperceptible cells into a fervor.

It’s 9:05 on a Sunday morning. The window is slightly cracked, letting the fresh autumn air circulate in. Her chest rises and falls rhythmically with shallow breaths as she pretends to still be sleeping. Small circles are being drawn on her back, clockwise, then counter clockwise. Then it switches to a word, or rather, a name. Jeff.

His fingers drag across her skin gently. First he writes it how you would normally write your name. Then in cursive, in all caps, capitalizing every other letter, looping letters, block letters.

“Are you marking me?” she mumbles tiredly. She can feel him laughing as he wraps his arms around her midsection, pulling her flush against his chest. He kisses the top of her head, nuzzling his face into her hair where traces of his cologne are trapped within the tresses. He’s everywhere. In her hair, on her skin, and where he doesn’t leave a physical presence he takes up residence in the place where her mind wanders.

“In more ways than one,” a smug tone drips off his tongue as he brings his one hand up to grasp her throat loosely, his thumb rubbing one of many dark purple splotches.

“Jeffff,” she whines, scrunching her neck up. Those are gonna be a bitch to cover up, but he loves them. He loves the way they whisper I was here. I will be here for as long as you want me. I love you. I love you.

“I didn’t hear you complaining last night,” he whispers into her ear, letting his lips linger. A shiver works its way down her back involuntarily. It’s almost annoying- how easily he gets to her. Just the sound of his voice is enough to set her skin on fire.

“You’re awful,” she tries to sound stern, but there’s a teasing tone in her voice that gives her away. It’s hard to be annoyed when images of the previous night and all the nights before that flood her mind.

“Yeah?” he questions, an impish inflection shaping his voice, “tell me, which part was less than satisfactory?”

He cups the bottom of her jaw with his palm and pushes upward gently, stretching her neck without causing pain. The bed jostles as his weight shifts to lean over her, his lips ghosting over the thin skin of her neck. It starts with soft pecks that progress to biting and sucking until the unblemished skin becomes a dark shade of red and purple. “Was it this?” he asks against her skin.

His hands grip her bare thighs, wrapping them around his waist. His fingers drag down from the top of her thighs down to the bend of her knees and then back up. Instinctively, her arms lock around his neck, bringing his forehead to rest against hers. “Was it this?” he asks against her lips.

“Oh hush. You’re perfect and you know it,” her voice is breathy as she tries to swallow her own desire. He is perfect, in every sense of the word. He has the kindest heart she has ever known.

“Perfect enough to make you happy?” he says earnestly. He lifts his head to be able to see her face clearly and wholly. Her cheeks have developed a pink tint and her eyes are soft and dreamlike, like she’s looking at the gates of heaven.

“Perfect or imperfect, I am happy,” she grabs his face between her hands delicately, “I’m happy and I love you.”

“Say it again,” he begs as his eyes flutter shut.

“I love you, Jeff Atkins.”

And then he’s kissing her. His lips are familiar but the feeling of them on hers makes her heart race like it’s the first time all over again. His body presses down against hers and she can feel every bump of hard muscle under soft skin. The distance between them is virtually nonexistent. Her heart hangs suspended in the space where she ends and he begins.

“You know,” she says in-between kisses, “this is why the morning after always turns into round two.”

“Sorry babe, I’ll work on keeping my hands to myself,” he laughs, burying his face into her neck.

“That was not a complaint, you keep your hands right where they are,” she returns his laugh whilst running her fingers through his hair.

“Yes ma’am,” he kisses her jaw, “I love you. I adore you with all my heart.”

“That makes me pretty lucky.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it,” he assures, “but speaking of being ‘lucky’, how ‘bout that round two?”

“You’re relentless,” she giggles pleasantly, pulling him closer.

“Tell me you don’t want me and I’ll stop.”

“Well that would make me a liar,” this time she kisses him, initiating an evocative situation. He responds immediately, his hands tangling in the thin lacy fabric covering her bottom half.

To be adored by a person with such a pure heart is to be loved absolutely. Few ever meet a person like that, but when they do it is significant. It marks a before and after in their life, and how lucky they are to have been loved by a person who knows what it means to love without limit. How lucky they are to have something just like this.


Masterlist

Gifs (X) (X)

anonymous asked:

What are your favorite blogs?

Took me like 2 hours AGAIN 😭


•I have to add saddaf first because she’s my khor jaan and will attack me 🙃 doesn’t matter what order I LOVE YOU ALL OKAY BELIEVE ME
(ngl I do obviously love some more than others aka my Qurbaaans💛duhhh)•

in no particular order whatsoever except for my saddaf:


@pukhtanaukht
@shna-chai
@24-08-2013
@ramiroo19
@isa550
@bint-jibla
@aboonoor
@all-noirxxx
@koreanmuslima
@allahumaghfirlee
@ludicr0us-th0ughts
@life-ahahaha
@karim328
@yourakh
@hassan-ibn-abdul-qadir
@muslimonthemap
@abumufasa
@onmydil
@epoe
@veggie-pizza
@lii-onn-deactivated20170715 (comeback)
@her-name-is-imxxn
@qadrx
@akb7r
@zalaan
@kid-khidr
@thisishers
@where-is-my-insanity
@lionnkng
@revert-muslimah
@silent-souls
@silkyrrose
@lovebeingamuslimah
@shxrika
@thatmuslimagirl
@bpdrays
@fariaxh
@allergictoyouuu
@liwanay-blocked but still pashtun gang
@yourlocalukht
@smallyetbeautiful
@pashtun-princess
@curiositykilledthejinn
@honeyandelixir
@al-muthannaa
@halalfriedchicken
@deepspacebase
@allergictoyouuu
@ipsum-semper
@iman-castro
@honey-x-love
@baqlawab3dworkout
@sabr-ina-theteenagewitch
@gulrukhfarah-deactivated2017071 (come back)
@adorrnyourrsoul
@9ahwa
@futureniqabi
@burnhtchocolatecake
@thisarabgirl
@playingtheodds
@hannah-mu
@dear-misshiba
@dukhtare-khala
@ibtasem
@lakayaotufaan
@fortis-voluntatis
@bint-muhammad
@lostsupremacy
@0bliviscor
@bucketofsweetness
@guluna


BEST FOR LAST @butfirstsabr like wow, this person is a queen but you already know that 😍🔥

I love this world because it is imperfect. It is imperfect, and that’s why it is growing; if it was perfect it would have been dead. Growth is possible only if there is imperfection. I would like you to remember again and again, I am imperfect, the whole universe is imperfect, and to love this imperfection, to rejoice in this imperfection is my whole message.
—  Osho
So you’re thinking about leaving concrit on a fanfiction...

Hi there!  Dresupi here! Fanfic author, mostly MCU.  

So you’re browsing Ao3…you’re having fun.  You’re reading all your favorite ship or fandom has to offer.  And EGADS!  You’ve spotted an error in one of the fics.  

Originally posted by gurl

Well.  Surely the next step is for you to let them know in the comments.  Right?  That’s what they’re for, after all.  Communicating with the author, right? 

 Wrong.  

Originally posted by yourbasicaesthetics

Wait WHAT?  Dres…you’re telling me I shouldn’t alert this writer to their grave error in judgement (Or grammar, or characterization, or anything else I deem incorrect in this work they’ve posted out in public for everyone to see?)

Yes, imaginary fic commenter.  Yes, that’s exactly what I’m telling you.  

But WHYYYY? 

Calm down, I’m going to lay this out for you.  All professional like.  With bullets and everything.  ;) I got you, Babe.  Don’t worry. 

  • Okay, so the first thing you (as a potential commenter of fanfiction) need to do is decide…Did you like the fic?  If yes, please continue to the next step.  If no, I need you to go back up to the top of your web browser and click the arrow pointing left.  That will take you OUT of the fic and enable you to continue on your search for the perfect fanfic. :D
  • Okay, so, if you’re still reading, you’ve decided that yes.  You DID like the fanfic.  YAY!  I’m so happy for you!  I love finding good fics!  I really do!  It’s the best feeling to find someone who writes your OTP just right, isn’t it?  … Oh wait…you mean…you DIDN’T like the way they wrote your OTP?  A scene was too short?  The word count over all was too short?  Characters were OOC?  Goodness gracious!   Well, in that case…I’m going to need you to go on up to the top left of your screen and click the arrow pointing left.  This will take you OUT of the fic and enable you to continue on your search for the perfect fic with perfect A+ Characterization.  
  • NOW.  Okay.  So you liked the fic.  You liked the length.  The characterization.  AWESOME!  PARTY TIME!  … Oh?  A factual error, you say?  Oh no!  That really is kind of embarrassing, you know?  Really quick, though.  BEFORE you comment, can you check the author’s note and see if the author is asking for help?  A beta?  A general okay-ness with constructive criticism?  (Some authors really like it).   But no?  You don’t see anything like that in the author’s note?  Hmm.  Well, this is a tough situation.  You can either leave your comment sans unprompted concrit…or you can venture up to the top left of your screen and click on the left hand arrow.  This will take you OUT of the fic and enable you to continue on your search for the perfect fic with A+ characterization with bonus fact checking!   
  • Alright,alright, alright.  You’ve made it this far!  This must be an AMAZING fic.  Outstanding!  :D  All except for those pesky grammar and/or syntax errors, right?  Wow.  These are really interfering with your ability to enjoy the fic.  Either this author is in desperate need of a beta, or maybe it’s just that ONE GLARING ERROR in an otherwise perfect fic.  It’s time to leave a comment, tell the author, right?  *sigh*  Take a glance at the author’s note.  Is the author asking for concrit?  Perhaps there’s a call for a beta reader?  Or just a general call for help?  No?  *deeper sigh* Sorry, Friend.  If you’re able, please leave your comment sans concrit, otherwise…yeah…you know what to do.  Back click.  

Really though…what’s the big deal about me leaving concrit?  Even if mine is a touch rude.  I know for a FACT {this author} has many more positive comments.  This isn’t going to amount to more than a drop in the bucket.  


Well…and this is speaking from personal experience as an author.  You could have hundreds upon hundreds of positive comments, but that one negative, or concritty comment is the one that stands out.  It’s the one that makes an author stop before pressing that “post” button.  It’s the one that makes them second guess themselves.  


But Dres, these authors are sharing their works in the public.  They should really develop thicker skins about this kind of thing.  

Well.  I mean.  This isn’t really up to you to decide.  This isn’t something you paid money for.  All you’ve invested is your time.  Leaving unwanted concrit in the comments of a fanfiction is the online equivalent of receiving a handmade sweater from your Nana and saying, “This is cool, but I’d rather have had the store-bought one…”   

Maybe this author is having a really hard time this week.  Maybe their word count isn’t up to snuff because of it.  Maybe this was all they were able to put out there?  Maybe their beta reader is on vacation or taking a break?  Maybe none of the above, maybe this is just simply the best they can do and they’re very proud of what they’ve accomplished!  

Fanfiction is a free service. Fic authors take their free time to craft and write these stories.  A lot of us aren’t professional writers.  We’re moms.  Students.  High schoolers.  Investment bankers.  Scientists. Therapists. {insert name of other careers here}. In other words, people with real lives, who spend what little free time we have, creating content for you to enjoy. 

It isn’t like if you pay money for the latest book from your favorite author, only to find out that they’ve killed off your favorite character and made the other character into a villain and completely mucked up the series past all canonical help.  

Originally posted by nightpsychotic

Okay, okay.  I get you.  It’s rude.  But can’t I at least point out the grammatical/syntax errors?  

And here’s where it gets tricky.  And I’d like to defer to my mom on this one.  

She always used to say, “Never point out a fault that someone can’t fix in less than three seconds.”  

She used it to pertain to people’s appearances, their attitude, or their speech patterns.  But I think it applies here too.  

I think of single typos as like…the literary version of having spinach in your teeth.  Yes.  This is something you could technically point out.  KINDLY.  You wouldn’t point and laugh at someone you didn’t really know who had spinach stuck between their front teeth, would you?  

(I would certainly HOPE the answer is no.) 

Likewise, if you simply must point out a single typo…do it nicely?  Otherwise, it looks like you read this thing that this fic author put out into the world…this little piece of themselves…you read it, and found nothing good whatsoever.  Just that typo.  Maybe you didn’t mean it that way.  But it’s what it looks like to that author.  

On the other side of this coin…if the entire fic is a grammatical mess?  Just…back click out.  

Here’s why I say that.  To you, it might look like My Immortal…but to the person that wrote it?  It looks like the hard-work and effort they poured into it.  And you never know.  The person that wrote it could be ESL.  *shrugs*  And your comment could be the thing that keeps them from ever trying again.  You never really know.  It’s safer to be cautious.

I’m going to double star and bold this next thing.  Because I feel like it’s super important.

**A better way to point out typos, grammatical errors or basically any other errors is to contact the author directly.**  

I link my tumblr at the bottom of all my fics for this reason.  And I’ve gotten some lovely messages from people informing me of formatting errors, typos and grammatical errors. It literally takes the same amount of time to click on a link and type out your comment as it does to leave it at the bottom of the fic.  And I can tell you that I do not mind getting told about errors in private.  It’s when things get dragged out into the open that I start getting defensive.  

Which brings me to my last point before I shut up and leave you to your day.  

“I didn’t mean this in a bad way!  I was only trying to help!  Why is this author getting so defensive???”

I’d like to tell you about a little thing called tone.  

Something that is completely lost in online messaging and commenting.  

While you, the commenter, might have not intended anything bad from your comment…the author could have read it in a completely different way. Know why?  

I can’t speak for everyone, but for me?  Personally?  It’s because I’m self-conscious.  Yes.  I’m super self-conscious about everything I share.  Whether it’s a short prompt or an update to a longer fic, I’m self-conscious about sharing it.  And that translates over to how I read tone in online messages and comments.  I hate that I can’t read things neutrally, but…here I am.  In all my imperfection.   

I guess in short, what I’m saying is…and this is probably going to earn me some enemies for whatever reason…I mean…I stood up to someone leaving concrit on one of my fics and got called a c*nt and an attention whore for it.  *shrugs*  People are gonna do what they want to do, and that’s how it is.  

Originally posted by teachingfeelslike

It takes absolutely no time to back click out and say nothing.  *shrugs*  It takes zero effort to not be a dick.  So please.  Just…don’t be a dick?  Feed your authors.  Don’t leech from them.   

anonymous asked:

How are you still a fan of Sam after all he's let happen to the fandom and to shippers in his name? You haven't personally been hurt by it so is it easier for you to ignore and pretend none of it ever happened? I'm struggling with my feelings about him and would love your insight.

As I have always said, I fan how I choose, and do my best to allow others the same privilege. If anyone reading this thinks I am talking about you, I promise you, I’m not.

I am sorry that there are people in the fandom who feel hurt. Its a shame that that was the result of something that should have been a fun and light-hearted experience. Please, however, don’t make assumptions, even posed as a question, such as ‘You haven’t personally been hurt by it so is it easier for you to ignore and pretend none of it ever happened?’ You don’t know what I have and haven’t been hurt by in this fandom, or by whom. I’m not pretending or ignoring anything. But I’m also not letting things have more presence in my life than they deserve.

You ask how I can still be a fan of Sam. First of all, I don’t believe that Sam did anything to fans, or allowed anything to be done to fans. I’ll talk more about that later. Even if I believed Sam did do something, that still doesn’t require me to stop supporting him. There is no one on this earth who has ever hurt me as deeply as my husband. No one has ever hurt him as deeply as I have. We don’t set out to hurt each other, but life is messy and people are imperfect. This is why I work every day of my life to practice the brutally hard art of forgiveness. Forgiveness isn’t an ‘If/Then’ equation. It’s not, ‘If this person is submissive and humble and admits all of their faults, then I will forgive.’ Forgiveness is a single party activity that is not dependent on any other person’s actions or opinions. I can forgive my husband when he hurts me because I choose to, whether or not he has asked for forgiveness. Forgiveness is for me, not him. Forgiveness makes me a better, happier, stronger person, more in control of my life. Let me ask you a question: Why would I NOT forgive my husband? Why would I hold on to anger, hurt or frustration? How would it benefit me? What would I get out of it? Heartburn, high blood pressure, anxiety - I don’t need more of that in my life. Besides, I know my husband is a really, really excellent man. His list of positive qualities is miles long. But he is imperfect, as am I. I forgive him, he forgives me, we focus on being better, learning from our mistakes and reveling in the soul fulfilling joy we find in each other. That is not ignoring or pretending, that is choosing our own happiness and health in spite of the messiness that is sharing life with another human. We are all responsible for our own happiness and happiness is a choice. My life is far from perfect and far from easy, but I am a generally happy person because I choose to be. Even if he did do something which hurt me (he didn’t), I can choose to forgive and move on. How can I still be a fan of Sam? Because I choose to be.

You ask how I can still be a fan of Sam after all he’s let happen to the fandom. He didn’t let anything happen to the fandom. We are not some unified group who get together each month and read the minutes and faithfully follow the bullet items on the agenda. Fandoms are very fluid bodies. There is no entrance exam, or document to sign, no oath to swear or dues to pay. People come and go as they please with no explanation due anyone at any time. Therefore, there is no control over what happens in a fandom at any given time, and my perception of this fandom is completely different from another fan, who may not be on Tumblr, but is on Twitter, or who is on Tumblr, but we have no followers in common. There are the Instagram fans, the Facebook fans, the multi-platform fans, the book group fans - and in each of these areas there are subsets of fans such as fanart, fanfiction, shipper, non-shipper, gifmaker, video maker, live tweeter, sam fan, cait fan, toby fan, graham fan, duncan fan, etc, etc, etc. There are thousands upon thousands of people who consider themselves part of this fandom. There are subsets of this fandom I probably haven’t even conceived of. We couldn’t possibly all share the same experiences, even in the same fandom, because there is simply too much diversity on every possible level. Therefore it is literally impossible for anything to happen to the fandom. You believe that something terrible happened to the shippers, but not even that is possible. Who are the shippers? Am I one, do you know how I categorize myself? We are all in control of our own experience. Sometimes that means not engaging or blocking, muting, ignoring, biting your tongue and generally not paying attention to people who don’t deserve your attention. It’s not Sam’s job to tutor us all about how to successfully fan, and it’s not his job to soothe ruffled feathers when one person hurts another person. How could he even begin to know? There are two sides to every story, so even if he was made aware of one side, what about the other side? We are adults. Our problems are our own. Not his. He has enough problems.

Again, you ask how can I still be a fan of Sam after everything that was done in his name. I don’t buy it. I refuse to hold Sam liable for other people’s actions. They are responsible for those actions. I am a Christian. I do not condone the thousands of years of atrocities that have been and continue to be committed in Jesus Christ’s name. I’m pretty sure He doesn’t either. I’m pretty sure Mohammed and Allah and myriad other well known figures don’t condone what was/is done in their names. I also believe that you are making assumptions about what Sam has condoned and what he hasn’t, what he knows and what he doesn’t and what his responsibilities are. Some people see malice where others see sarcasm. Some see apathy where other’s see focus directed somewhere else. We simply don’t know what has gone on behind the scenes, or what people really felt, thought or did. If someone was a horrible bully or troll (and there were several someones) that is on them. They made bad decisions. Really bad decisions. I do know that no one was required to engage with anyone else on Twitter or any other platform. Lucky for me, it isn’t my job in life to judge other people. My job is to do my best to be a good person and be good to other people. I believe we should try to lead by example. I am a fan of Sam because I don’t believe he did anything or allowed anything to be done to fans.

Do you really want to know why I am still a fan of Sam? You think you’ve been hurt by him, or someone associated with him? You think this has caused great distress in your life? Maybe it has. Here is something I know about Sam. His dad left him when he was three. Three years old. I have four kids. I know intimately what it’s like to have a three year old. I know how much they need. I know what it takes to raise a boy to manhood. It’s not easy. Sam had no contact with his dad. None. No advise, no outings, no support, no role model. He had no father. I’m sure this hurt him deeply and continues to hurt him. After years of absolutely no contact with his father, they were reconnected. His dad was dying of cancer. He did not push him away, tell him to die alone, tell him that he left so there could be no relationship, or any of a million other things he could have done. He chose the higher path. He traveled to see his father. He truly connected with him. He learned about him. He go to know him. He offered him love and support as this flawed man was dying. In short, he offered at least some form of forgiveness. I’m sure it was hard for him. I’m sure there were many horrible things he wanted to say. Maybe he did say them. But we know from his own words that it didn’t end on a horrible note. It ended on a positive, healing, healthy note. That’s pretty remarkable and admirable. That’s just one example out of many that illustrate why I think Sam is worthy of my attention. He is a good man. He is generous with his time, talent and wealth. He cares about people and he isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty in the process of helping others.

You are absolutely not required to be a fan of Sam. It’s a supremely optional activity. But my question for you is why would I NOT be a fan of Sam? I have yet to hear a single person give me even one legitimate reason why I shouldn’t be a fan, considering that I should probably hold him to the same standard to which I hold myself. We’re both pretty flawed, messy humans. Isn’t life grand?

Wholehearted living is about engaging in our lives from a place of worthiness. It means cultivating the courage, compassion, and connection to wake up in the morning and think, ‘No matter what gets done and how much is left undone, I am enough.’ It’s going to bed at night thinking, 'Yes, I am imperfect and vulnerable and sometimes afraid, but that doesn’t change the truth that I am also brave and worthy of love and belonging.’
—  Brene Brown, “Daring Greatly”
Status Inglês

• Promise me you will never forget all the times we spent together.
(Prometa que você nunca vai esquecer todos os momentos que passamos juntos.)

• Treat your girl right or someone else will.
(Tratar a sua garota bem ou alguém o fará.)

• I am perfectly imperfect.
(Estou perfeitamente imperfeita.)

• Love and kindness are the very basis of society. If we lose these positive emotions, society will face tremendous difficulties.
(Amor e bondade são a base da sociedade. Se nós perdermos essas emoções positivas, sociedade enfrentará dificuldades tremendas.)

• Imagine all we could accomplish if we just used our imagination.
(Imagine tudo o que poderíamos realizar se usamos nossa imaginação.)

• There will always be a lesson behind every pain.
(Sempre haverá uma lição por trás de cada dor.)

• Sometimes music is all you need.
(Às vezes a música é tudo que você precisa.)

• Don’t ruin today by worrying about yesterday’s problem.
(Não estrague hoje por se preocupar com o problema de ontem)

• Keep your head high gorgeous, there are people who would kill to see you fall.
(Mantenha a cabeça erguida, lindo, há pessoas que matariam para vê-lo cair.)

• I never changed. I just learned.
(Eu nunca mudei. Eu aprendi.)

• The best medicine in the world is a mother’s hug.
(O melhor remédio do mundo é um abraço de mães.)

• The hardest thing is not talking to someone you used to talk to everyday.
(A coisa mais difícil não é falar de alguém costumava falar para todos os dias)

• Sometimes i keep my feelings to myself, because it’s hard for someone to understand
(Às vezes guardo meus sentimentos para mim, porque é difícil para alguém entender.)

• The only thing worse than not finding happiness is finding it and throwing it away.
(A única coisa pior do que não encontrar a felicidade é descobri-lo e jogá-la fora.)

• Sometimes, I’m afraid to tell you how I feel.
(Às vezes, tenho medo de lhe dizer como me sinto.)

• Be crazy. Be weird. Don’t be afraid of what anybody thinks.
(Ser louco. Ser estranho. Não tenha medo do que os outros pensam)

• somewhere between emotional and emotionless
(em algum lugar entre o emocional e as emoções)

• The older I get, the more I realize what really matters in life.
(Quanto mais velho fico, mais eu percebo o que realmente importa na vida.)

• Good people go through the most bullshit.
(Boas pessoas passam pela maior merda.)

• Do what is right, not what is easy.
(Fazer o que é certo, não o que é fácil.)

                        Se pegar ou gostar dê like/reblog 

Woman to self

I washed off all my makeup today. Cleansed my self of the polish that covered my clear and Removed all extensions that were tied to my crown I wet my temple from follicle to foot and I prayed under the fountain that I could walk the earth in this state forever, with enough comfort  to understand that my temple had been created with intent to live as is. Scuplted by the very hands of perfection and sent by the ruler of the sky to be a force. I am a woman I am imperfection in the eyes of many, but to the right eyes an essence of light peeks through. I landed my foot on a bed of cloth as i stepped out and glanced at the woman before my eyes saying to myself why have you ever hidden from yourself, YOU are a masterpiece.

100 Positive Things to Say to Myself ☀️

What we think in our minds will eventually become what we believe.  This is why it is so important that we start saying positive things about ourselves many times each and everyday. Choose two or three of the statements below and repeat them to yourself throughout the day.

  1. I love myself.
  2. The world has a need for me.
  3. I am unique.
  4. I can and I will do things to promote healing in my life.
  5. I can handle this one step at a time.
  6. The sun is shining; I am ready to take on another day.
  7. My problem has a solution; I will work on a plan.
  8. I am a survivor.
  9. I refuse to give up because I haven’t tried all possible ways.
  10. I will inhale confidence and exhale doubt.
  11. I may be one in 7 billion but I am also one in 7 billion!
  12. I am smart.
  13. I believe I can change the world (or at least my corner of it).
  14. I am important.
  15. Today, I will celebrate me.
  16. I matter.
  17. I can find peace through prayer and meditation.
  18. I am strong.
  19. My confidence is beautiful.
  20. I am imperfect but I’m perfectly me.
  21. My smile can make someone feel better.
  22. I choose to focus on what I can control.
  23. Everything will work out in the end. If it hasn’t worked out yet, it’s not the end.
  24. I am happy with who I am.
  25. Every day, in every way, I am becoming better and better.
  26. I am a good person.
  27. I keep going because I believe in myself.
  28. I choose to see the good in the people I interact with today.
  29. It is always too early to give up on my goals.
  30. I can reach out for help if I need it.
  31. I am special; I will not change myself for anyone.
  32. I choose hope.
  33. The answer is right before me, even if I do not see it right now.
  34. I am thankful for…
  35. I choose to take good care of myself.
  36. I accept myself.
  37. I can make a difference.
  38. My past does not define my future, I do.
  39. My life is filled with possibility.
  40. I refuse to be pushed by my problems; I will be led by my dreams.
  41. I am awake and ready to be awesome.
  42. I will focus on my talents; I have things to share with the world.
  43. I choose to have the strength to move on to healthier relationships.
  44. I deserve good things in life.
  45. I release myself from my anger.
  46. I love who I am.
  47. I will allow peace to fill my soul.
  48. Today is a new day; I will see what adventure it holds.
  49. I choose to be proud of myself.
  50. I will do my absolute best in all things.
  51. I will speak kindly to others and to myself.
  52. I choose to be brave and tell others if I need their support.
  53. I have the power to control my reactions to the challenges I will face.
  54. I am becoming healthier each and every day.
  55. I choose to see each obstacle as an opportunity to grow.
  56. I will step out of my comfort zone and try something new today.
  57. I am a success; I can make this a great day.
  58. Note to self: You are amazing.
  59. I can control my breathing.
  60. I will stay calm, it will get better.
  61. I allow myself to forgive; it will allow me to move beyond the pain, to a place of peace.
  62. I choose to make today amazing.
  63. I choose to let the past go and move on to the future.
  64. Today, I will be courageous.
  65. I release all fear from my mind.
  66. I can reach my goals, I am unstoppable.
  67. I am ready to write a new chapter for my life.
  68. I will take the time to notice and be thankful for the little things.
  69. I can write down my thoughts and take control of my emotions.
  70. My hard work is already paying off.
  71. I am thankful for life.
  72. I choose to be happy.
  73. I accept the good that is flowing into my life.
  74. I will not allow anxious thoughts to steal my joy.
  75. Today, I forgive myself.
  76. My body knows how to get better; I will listen to it and rest when needed.
  77. I am stronger than my worries.
  78. I’m not the only one who struggles; I choose to be kind to everyone that I meet.
  79. Yesterday was a bad day, not a bad life. Today will be better.
  80. I am braver than I feel.
  81. While I wait for the storm to pass, I will choose to dance in the rain.
  82. I am loved.
  83. I will remember; often difficult roads lead to beautiful destinations.
  84. There is more to life than this moment; I choose to keep moving forward.
  85. I am capable of bringing my dreams to life.
  86. I am okay. I am breathing. I am alive.
  87. I am capable of achieving great things.
  88. I light the world with my smile.
  89. My spirit is beautiful.
  90. I make a difference in the world.
  91. I allow myself to take a break and do something I enjoy.
  92. I can make a difference.
  93. I’m not sure what will happen tomorrow, but I’ll take care of myself so I am strong enough to face it.
  94. I choose to approach my problems with a calm heart and mind.
  95. I trust myself.
  96. I will do my best with whatever comes my way.
  97. I have a purpose that I am fulfilling.
  98. I will listen to that whisper of hope that says, ‘you can do it, try again’.
  99. I can change my life.
  100. I will learn from yesterday, live for today and hope for tomorrow.
Goodbye

Prompt: You let Chanyeol cheat because you’re dying of an illness

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 2050


To Chanyeol, whom I love.



It’s a funny thing, or at least I find it funny, ironic even to begin an introduction with analyzing farewells. Please do not take this in an ominous way, I do not mean for that sort of tone. Just lighthearted pensivity that comes with being stuck in the same room everyday. A way to let go of my thoughts.

There are so, so many ways to say goodbye, have you thought about it? A simple, curt “bye.” If you repeat it, “bye-bye,” it’s childlike, cuter, friendly. Some dialects transform it to “buh-bye.”

Have a nice day, afternoon, evening: Friendly. Well wishing. Used in a slightly more formal context.

See you later: Casual, hopeful, cheery.

Farewell: Final, formal, tinged with emotion. Slightly outdated. Originating from “fare thee well,” meaning travel happily, safely.

Take care: A more modern version of “farewell.” Take care of yourself, while I’m gone. Take care of yourself while we are parted.


And finally, the root concept:


Goodbye.



A parting with good feelings.

Often a formal way to verbally initiate a separation, and ironically, although the word itself uses “good,” it is often found in situations blanketed by negativity. Frustration with family members when you slam your room door as a child, or when you angrily press the red button to hang up.  Breaking up. Believing you will never see someone again.

Knowing you won’t see them again.


Forgive me, Chanyeol. I didn’t want this to turn dark again. I meant to write this with the happiness of your smile, like the sun. The glow of your cheeks, like the full moon on a cloudless night. The twinkle in your eye like that of stars.





For the past seemingly endless months, I’ve been in countless rooms, all the same.

White. A color to symbolize purity. Cleanliness.

You get sick of it very quickly.

The walls are white, the curtains are white, the pillows, the blankets, the clothes are white. It’s to bring the facade of perfection though I am imperfect. I am not pure. I am not clean. I am riddled with spreading disease.

I digress.


The paradox that many things change yet remain the same, and many things remain the same yet are changed. Different rooms, all the same. There’s always a doctor, though each room holds a different one.

Different rooms, different doctors, different facilities, different treatments, different results, different pains stretching over my body, fluctuating in intensity. All the same questions, the same procedures, the same pinch of the needle, the same emptiness inside, the same boredom, the same color, the same pain plaguing my mind. The same Chanyeol always by my side, holding my hands, kissing my cheeks, hugging me close, wary of the various tubes and machines.

The same Chanyeol.

Yet different.




I remember the first time walking into a hospital like this, as a patient. Tests and doctors and drawing blood and taking samples and scans and everything all at once. Professionally in order for them. Confusing and chaotic for us. You held my hand tightly.


I remember before the first surgery to get the growth, the t-word, to get it out. I was so scared. I was terrified for weeks. I cried so much. I was worried but I was hopeful. It was still shocking to think of myself having the c-word. I never imagined this. You kissed my cheeks, carrying my tears away.


I remember the day the doctor entered the room, coat as white, as clean, as pure as ever. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Both of you have been fighting so hard.” He looked at you, eyes forlorn. “You may want to sit down.”

They had spread to my lungs. They were eating, feasting away at my breath. I was in too much pain to cry. I was too numb from so much pain. All I could do was lay there, staring, listening to you cry out the pain for me. For us. You held me in your arms. You were broken, wary of the various tubes and machines that had become part of me.

The next morning, early afternoon, when we woke up, I said I still had time. Limited, but everyone has limited time. No one lives forever. Just some longer than others. I still had over a year left. A year and a half. I would lose my hair, and I would receive more scars, but I still had a year and a half with friends and family. A year and a half with you.


And now we are trapped in what seems like an endless cycle. A repeat of yesterday happened the day before and the day before that and before that and before that…Seemingly endless. But we both know how it ends. We both know when it will end.

We both know my days are numbered. I don’t know the number. Neither do you, nor the doctors and their white coats.

It is a number known only by God.




I believe I’ve given up on attempting to ward off tragedy. But I knew since the beginning of this letter that I would eventually succumb to it. After all, I am the one writing this.




You are still the same, but different. Still sleeping next to me, holding my hand. Still bringing me flowers and gifts and movies and affection and love. Thank you for staying the same.

The passcode to your phone has always been the same. It touches my heart that you trust me that much.

I’ve betrayed you.


You were sleeping, eyes puffy from crying with me. You always cried with me. I don’t know how many times you’ve cried alone, but you’ve always been there with me to kiss away my tears. How long have you stayed in this same white room with me? I apologize for taking away from your life. We’re both young, and you’ve spent so much time with me in the same white rooms that were always changing. But for the past year and a half, we’ve been living in one room, now. How nice.


I digress again.

Forgive me, my mind tends to wander along these walls I’ve memorized months and months and months ago.



You were sleeping beside me.

I was reading.

Your phone lit up.

There was a number unknown to me, and I was curious.

I’ve betrayed your trust. Please forgive me.

But as I betrayed your trust, it was also fed to me.




I was angry…no, that’s a childish word. Furious. Livid. Wrathful. I wanted to scream at you. I wanted to rip you from your dreams so you could see my shattered reality. I wanted to hurt you. The one place where I was barricaded from pain by your hands, your embrace, your kiss. It’s now broken.

For the first time, I cried by myself.

You were there, but I was alone.

My emotions whipped my mind into a maelstrom. My tears were silent as I read. I wanted to look away. I wanted to stop. I wanted to smash your phone into the white walls. Break a hole in the plaster. Create something new for me to look at.



My heart…it hurts more than my body.





She said that she loves you too.

I’m telling you this because in my rage I deleted her response. Her words for you. The response that she had stolen from my lips, from my heart. Those were supposed to be my words.

I wanted to delete the whole chain of messages. Your pain, her comfort, words of affection and love exchanged between you both. I wanted to erase them so you would know that I knew.

But then I realized that you would know. You would know that I found out.


My heart aches, for I am not something that will last for much longer.

If you knew that I knew, what kind of guilt would eat at your heart?



More than what you feel now is the correct answer.




You are the same Chanyeol that took me on sporadic trips. The same Chanyeol that wrote songs for me, about me, to me. The same Chanyeol that held my hand through all those tests, who kissed my frightened tears away, who held my painful body so delicately, so securely in your arms.

Yet you are a different person now.

I thought the look in your eye was because my time was drawing close. And it was, but it was more. It was guilt.

Did you curse yourself? Scream questions to yourself about how you could love two people at once?



Chanyeol.


My love.


It is possible. Like how a parent loves their children. Like how I would rather die for all of my friends rather than have to pick just one.

It is possible.

Set your mind at ease.

Set your heart at ease.

Please.

I want you to be free from this guilt. I won’t last much longer. It’s already too much for me to get out from under these white sheets and stretch my legs. It hurts too much. It’s too harsh on my lungs. My lungs that are being chewed away.

Don’t tell me not to say it, because it’s true and we need to face it like how we faced all those other tests, all those other trials.


My year and a half is over.

I’m going to die soon.

I know.

I can feel it.



I am not writing this to hurl you into more guilt, please, Chan. For months you’ve tried to hide yourself from me. But as much as it hurts, I wish I had known sooner. It brings me peace that you will be able to move on after a little bit of time. I know I still matter to you, that you still love me, that you will miss me when I’m gone, and that comforts me. But it brings me joy that she understands, that she loves you too, that she will wait for you to be ready to move on.


Take it Chanyeol.

Take your life back.

You are still young.

I’ve taken away years. You’ve been with me in plain white rooms for years, and I thank you beyond what words can ever say. But she can free you from these white walls. She can bring you to green grass and blue skies. Orange sunsets and pink sunrises. The velvety purple of dusk. The yellow sun. A silver moon. Twinkling stars, like your eyes when you smile.

You don’t smile much anymore. I miss it. But that’s ok, as long as you let yourself smile later with her.


Love her.

With every bit of passion and care as you did with me and more.

I feel so happy, so secure because of you. Let her feel the same, please. Share it with her, your love. Don’t let guilt chain your warmth and smiles and kisses and hugs and laughter to a breathless body.

Don’t feel guilty, Chanyeol, I beg you.

You have so much to give, don’t waste it on someone who won’t be able to return it anymore.


Before the pain started, when we shared plans about the future. Vacations, pets, where to live, a home, how many kids, all the soft whispers, the promises. Make new ones with her. Move on when you’re ready, but don’t linger for too long. I want you to enjoy your life.

I wish I could’ve met her. I wish I could thank her for bringing you happiness during this time of sorrow and loss. I wish I could tell her all the things you like, all the things you don’t like. Your habits, the good ones and the bad ones and the annoying, trivial ones. I wish I could tell her everything I know about you.

But it would be more intimate for you both to figure it out together.





I want this letter to end with a beginning. My book has ended, but there’s a new chapter for you. Please continue to write in it. As you move on with your limited time, cherish life.


Take care of yourself, for I want you to be happy when I see you later.

Farewell. Travel safely and happily.

I love you, Chanyeol.

Thank you.

Let’s part with good feelings.





Goodbye

I am the crashing waves under a symphony of light;
the pink and orange dreams of fairy floss clouds.
I am the scent of carnations and roses;
the daintiness wished away in adolescence.
I am a mystery;
a wilder-beast of golden blood.
I am the painted nails of the girl next door,
perfection only seen by herself.
I am the kiss under the stars;
breath washed away in love and beauty.
I am the yellowed pages of a leather bound journal;
stories and secrets never to be known beyond the rusted lock.
I am lace ballgowns caressing the marble dancefloor;
details sewn for hours.
I am the street lights pouring through the windows;
lighting up the room as the cat curls into them.
I am the scent of a classroom;
nostalgic and inviting.
I am torn jeans turned stylish.
I am a string of letters placed upon a beat and a rhythm.
I am perfectly imperfect and
I am who I am.
—  a poem by moi!