The person you marry is the person you fight with. The house you buy is the house you repair. The dream job you take is the job you stress over. Everything comes with an inherent sacrifice—whatever makes us feel good will also inevitably make us feel bad. What we gain is also what we lose. What creates our positive experiences will define our negative experiences. This is a difficult pill to swallow. We like the idea that there’s some form of ultimate happiness that can be attained. We like the idea that we can alleviate all of our suffering permanently. We like the idea that we can feel fulfilled and satisfied with our lives forever. But we cannot.
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Niña Alemana (The German Girl Spanish Edition) by Armando Lucas Correa
prompts for a dystopian world where if you get injured and aren't better within the month you get discarded. (I'm thinking my main character will be faced with an injury early on? or is injury prone all together?)
● “Stop rough-housing! You’ll get hurt.”
“And then we’ll be thrown out of here into the bad, bad world. We get it mom.”
● Someone designs an exoskeleton to keep their paralyzed legs a secret.
● Babies with disorders are euthanized hours after being born. A rebellious group kidnaps all of the babies on the kill list.
● “You could get hurt.”
“What’s life without a little danger?”
“Well, you’ll be living that life outside of our known civilization.”
● A person who suffers forgetfulness and headaches from repeated concussions attempts to hide their ailements, but a stranger/ acquaintance figures it out. They say they’ll keep quiet if the other person does something for them.
● The doctor took off his glasses and set them on the table near him. He looked at the woman sitting in front of him, fearful and frightened. He wished he could give her good news.
“What’s wrong with her? It’s just a hairline fracture on a pinkey finger. She’ll be fine within a month,” the woman urged as if she could coax an “everything’s okay” out of him.
“It shouldn’t be fractured at all.”
“What do you mean?” Her voice rose in pitch at the end, shrill and sharp.
“I’m sorry ma'am, but your daughter has a rare disorder that makes her bones very brittle and weak, prone to breaking.”
The mother lifted her hands to her mouth, wincing at the words. “Please doctor, you can’t tell anyone this. I’ll do anything for you to destroy the records. If you want money, I’ll give it to you.”
“I’ll take care of the evidence, but she’s safe for now anyway. This doesn’t garuntee she’ll have a long term injury, it just makes it more likely.”
● He’d just wanted to try something fun for once. Little did he know that a little roller skating would end in an accident that ended his life as he knew it.
● “You can’t just keep me inside a bubble.”
“The ‘bubble’ is keeping you safe!”
● Pain medication is the most bought product in the black market, as people use it to hide the effects of their injuries.
● A person with cancer gets chemo trearments through a hidden, illegal hospital. When it’s discovered by the government and shut down, they must find a new way to continue treatment before being to weak to try.
● A person who is unable to feel pain doesn’t notice when then they cut their head open after an accident. Their best friend notices the injury and tries to find ways to patch them up before the government finds out and assesses them for long term impact.
● “Why? Why can’t we have over a month to recover? Why have the limit at all?”
“You know why. We can’t have the weak filling our ranks. It’s too dangerous in this world.”
“At this point, I think joining the enemy is a safer option.”
● A character who loses an eye is casted out of their society. They discover a village of other banished people.
● A woman runs a secret home for the injured. Disguising it as a bed and breakfast, she tends to people’s wounds and helps them so they won’t be evicted from the city.
● She heard the snap of her arm as it broke. Five minutes later, she felt the pain, but it was small in comparison to the fear she had for her future.
● One of a pair of twins has chronic fatigue, unbeknownst to anyone but their sibling, and the other desperately works to cover for them.
The strokes of her brush slathered blue paint on the backdrop. She sang softly to herself as she worked, unable to reisist the urge to fill the silence. She glanced about her for a few seconds, pausing. On the other side of the room, Tom had his headphones in as he listened to the sound track for the musical. She shrugged and sang louder since he wouldn’t be affected even if she did slip up a little.
Mindlessly, she belted out the words to her favorite song. Seconds after finishing the last verse, a voice rang out, loud and clear.
“Hey, that was really-”
She jumped in shock at the sound, dropping her brush onto part of the paper deliberately left white for a cloud. She groaned an “oh no”, snatching the brush off the canvas, but the damage was already done.
She immediately turned to glare at the causer of the mistake, but the expression melted away when she observed his shocked face.
“I’m so so sorry. I didnt realize that you-.”
She cut him off. “It’s alright. Just have to go over it after it dries.”
He nodded, an alwardly deliberate head jerk and pushed his glasses farther up his nose. The dark rims of the glasses brought attention to his vivid, green eyes. They sparkled with guilt and embarrasment.
“Seriously, it’s fine. What’d you come over here to day anway?” She wiped her hands on her smock and started to clean up.
“I was just… well, I was going to compliment you on your singing. It’t really good.”
She smiled, amused by his akwardness but pleased by his praise, even though she knew her voice was undeniably good. “Thank you.” Her watch beeped suddenly, and she glared down at it before pressing a button to stop the noise from being emitted. “I’ve go to go. See you around at the next meeting, yeah?”
“Yeah…” He trailed off as she whisked out of the room and down the hall.
He paused, thinking about her voice. It truly was amazing, hitting all the right notes. And now that Julie had a throat infection and her understudy was going to be at a funeral… The bulb of an idea lit up in his head.
Her swerving hands swiped highlights into the green tree, making it appear to have more dimension. She’d accomplished alot during the actual meeting time; now she was staying later as she was dead set on finishing the piece. She sang again, completely alone this time, letting her voice be her own radio.
She had just set the brush in her cup of muddied water when she heard the boy from yesterday speak up, slipping out from behind a large prop.
“Figured I’d say something after you put the paint brush down,” he explained, walking forward until he reached the girl.
“That was a wonderful idea,” she commented.
“Learn from past mistakes, right?”
“Very true. Anway, what’s up? Why the hiding behing the prop? Kinda creepy, I’ll admit,” she said, laughing softly nead the end.
“Well the creepiness will have to be ditributed to another too,” he said, as the director of the musical stepped out from behind the prop.
Her eyes widened. “Were you guys spying on me?”
“Just a little bit,” the director said.
“Well, Travis told me about your singing, and he has good judgement, so I wanted to hear for myself.”
“Why does it matter?” she pressed.
“Julia Armstrong and her understudy are both unable to perform for the musical. Julia only had a brief part and a solo, but we really need someone good to take her place.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“Most likely. How’d you like to be in the musical?”
Excitement flashed in her eyes before they were flooded with disappointment. “I’m sorry, I can’t. I mean, I’d love to, but acting in front of people is phobia of mine.”
“That’s alright. Let me know if you change your mind, okay?” the director said, visibly sad due to the rejected offer.
She nodded. “Yeah, I definitely will.”
The director left the room with a small, parting smile, leaving her and the green-eyes boy alone.
“Sorry, I should’ve asked before just bringing the director,” he said sheepishly, twiddling his thumbs.
She grinned at him. “It’s fine. I’m glad you thought I was good enough to be in the musical.”
“Yeah, you definitely have talent.”
“Thanks,” she murmured.
“Anyway, I’d best be going. See you next time?” he said.
“Definitely,” she agreed. He wasn’t able to hide his blush as he turned away. She briefly wondered whether the allure of her voice- a lapse in her defenses- had inspired his crush or if it was natural.
She resumed her painting, wistfully thinking about the solo. She’d lied, she actually loved performing. Unfortunately, it was too dangerous to take the part. Singing in front of one or a few people was one thing. She’d mastered the art of singing with a small amount of people present without anything magor happening. When a siren has an auditorium full of others to captivate, it’s too likely that a not-completely-experienced teenager like her would get carried away.
There’s an episode of Brooklyn 99, where one character (Jake) meets the author of his most favorite book that inspired him to become a detective. However, when the author says something homophobic about his captain, not only does Jake punch him, but he decides to cut connections with the book altogether. I don’t think JK Rowling did anything as egregious as saying something as homophobic, but what she did with the North American schools should be condemned. Brooklyn 99 set a good example.
And you humans are so incredibly foolish. You spend your whole lives searching for something that makes your existence meaningful. You believe that you can make yourselves worth something in a cruel and thoughtless world. And yet, you still do immeasurably stupid things: you damn others for their opinions, sometimes only because those opinions do not coincide with your own and you hurt people because in your illusion, your wrath is righteous. And it doesn’t matter what the reason is, whether it is facts or beliefs, you still use that ‘righteous’ reason to justify your hateful actions against others. Does it ever grow tedious, I wonder? Tire you out, exhaust you to be full to the brim with so much hate? I look forward to it, I do, I look forward to the day when someone understands it.
Understands that, no matter what your reasons are, you are still a small human being hurting an equally small human being, and until your gods make their judgement on you, you hardly have the right to do so yourself.
I want to write a book that matters
I want to write a book that inspires people
I want to write a book that changes people’s perspective
I want to write a book that make people’s hearts full of wonder
I want to write a book that makes people laugh and cry
I want to write a book people fall asleep hugging
I want to write a book that means something
I want to write a book that will stay with people for a long time
I want to write a book.
read interesting books. listen to beautiful lyrics and melodies. write your own stories. go to concerts, parks and museums. study hard. take care of yourself.
stay hydrated. learn to appreciate the little things. travel. learn a language. remind your friends that you’re there for them. be kind, and feel.