fear surrounds me

Star Wars Dark Disciple: ‘this novel will skew towards adult readers’.

[Two hundred pages of Asajj’s struggles with her haberdashery bill on a freelance Bounty Hunter budget]


another post, 2 in one day - but that is because I missed last night and yada yada yada. so, day 24 whoop!  - wedif post -

wedif masterlist: coming soon

masterlist / request / submit   (the usual stuff)

Pulling my coat tighter around myself I kept my head low as I entered the building. Conversations were kept to a minimum as I heard others mutter as I silently walked past them towards the reception where the echoing of the phone sounded throughout the lobby. Keeping my eyes on the floor as my heels clicked against the marble flooring I placed my hands on the desk and removed my sunglasses. 

The receptionist tried not to wear judgement as I placed my sunglasses on the top of my head. Instantly the confidence I once had now dissolved, replaced by my body struck with fear of those eyes surrounding me. “Hi, a room booked for Thomas?” I asked without stuttering, glancing around I tried to avoid those eyes on mine but as always, that is never achievable. 

She typed away into the computer that remained hidden from my view, for a moment she glanced back to me then focusing on her screen. “Just, just for one night?” I could see her trying not to guess what I was up to, why I was wearing such an oversized coat and wanted to avoid everyone. 

Nodding she got up from her seat and moved towards the back room leaving me hovering at the desk uneasily. Although I knew that no one knew who I was, it didn’t make their eyes lingering on me any easier or their harsh words to be untangled without me crying in my sleep when they circulate. When she came back she gave me my key, and muttered a ‘enjoy your stay’ trying not to smirk to herself. 

Taking the key along with my bag I walked quickly to the lift, not wanting my coat to fly up and risk exposure. As I stood in the lift on my own the uneasy feeling in my stomach only grew, it never ceases to build up moments before we are reunited. It just causes me unnecessary amounts of grief and consciousness for one night every few weeks and then becoming nothing more than strangers, was it really worth it? Or was I merely seeking comfort? 

As I walk along the never ending corridor I try and shut out the smell of cleaning product, the stale smell that clings to the fibres in the carpet probably older than the cleaners who work here. I focus on the room numbers, wondering how many have passed through here for similar purposes to my own. When I was growing up I’d hate thinking of such a thing, about the invisible dirt they’d leave on the sheets, the act of knowing about others in the rooms either side. Now here I am, being my own worst hypocrite. 

Standing in front of the door I try my hardest to control my breathing, it always gets hitched in my throat as I stand there with the key in hand. Slowly I unlock it, moving the key until it clicks. I sigh, I’ve done this too many times. 

It starts with me taking my coat off, I carefully hang it up to prevent creases. My heels remain on for now, no matter how much they pain me. I walk into the bathroom and admire my attire, black was always the classiest option, so that was what I wore for him. I reapplied my lipstick, a dark red which was pointless as it would be in ruins in a matter of minutes. I practice smiling, I pinch my cheeks as I try to convince myself that I do miss him. 

A ring on my phone snaps me out of my focus, he’s asking where I am. Sending him the room number I unlock the door, leaving it for him to just walk in, as always. Patiently I wait as I perch on the end of the bed, wanting nothing more than to take the heels off but no, I keep them on. I hear footsteps near the room and I lift my leg out, waiting for him to enter as I hold my arms behind me. Stretching my body out and my hair to flow behind me, leaving my outfit on show for him. 

Chuckling I hear the door shut. He walks in with the same smile, always impressed with the effort I put in. Standing up I walk over to him, missing those brown eyes that I crave to look into whenever I can. Slowly I remove his clothes, helping him with such a difficult task. “Hi.” He smiles as I bend down to undo his belt and take my shoes off.

Rolling my eyes as he winks I undo my own shoes then being in a height difference lead him over to the bed. “Hi, I missed you.” Sighing I lie down, waiting for him to join me. 

“You know how it is on tour, I wish I could take you with me.” Playing with my hair in his fingertips I can’t help but admire all the features about him I missed, the smile he wears when he’s content, the glint in those eyes, or the endless tattoos decorating his skin. 

Running my fingers over the tattoos on his arm leading to his chest his face comes closer to mine until I feel at ease. The judgement from earlier and every other time melts away when I’m with him. When we hold hands, when we dance, when we laugh or watch movies. When he kisses me slowly and passionately, how he takes his time to ensure I’m enjoying myself too. “Ready?” Pulling away I can see the drive clear in his eyes, all I have to do is nod. 

Outside darkness draws nearer, we lie together in the creased sheets with him holding me close. “Do you ever think we can be official?” I speak up with a question I ask now and then. 

Hesitant to reply I know what’s coming. He’s too scared, not of me but for me. His friends know me, they’ve met me and we all get on just fine, but he doesn’t think the fans will manage or process us. So here we are, lying in some cheap hotel sneaking in and out like we commit crimes every few weeks. 

Lifting his hand to smooth my hair, something he does out of guilt occasionally. It’s as if he thinks I’ll forget, as if my hair holds all of my memories that will simply glide away with the touch of his fingertips. But no, the same thought always stays whenever I see him. 

“How do we though? I love you, I love everything about you but you’re so precious to me I don’t want you to get hurt.” Lowering his eyes he struggled with his reasoning. 

I released myself from his grasp and walked away towards the shower, alone. Turning it on I shut and locked the door, letting him know now I would want time for myself to reflect, not to share. Steam flooded the bathroom, fogging the mirror until I was just a blur in the condensation. 

The heat the shower gave was always comforting, sometimes more so on lonely nights without Calum to hold me close. I stood under the shower for longer than needed, I scrubbed viciously at my skin to remove the layer that formed. I could feel dirt coat my skin filled with secrecy, lies, promises that are never fulfilled and the dreams that I wait to happen, if they ever happen. I felt myself choking on the steam until I felt myself rid of the shame that clung, refusing to part after all this time. 

Once dried I could see my reflection slowly return in the mirror. Fresh faced, shame ridden expression. I got out and let the steam follow me, it vanished into the air like my feelings did leaving Calum unsuspecting. He walked over to me as I began to pick my things up. “I’ll go first this time.” I muttered as I slipped my dress back on and picked my heels up. 

He reached his hand out and took my heels from my grasp and dropped them. His hands connected to mine as he just admired my eyes, not taking his eyes off of mine for a single second. “I’m not doing this anymore.” Unsure how to take his words I froze up, fear etched into my expression. 

“If that’s what you want.” A lump formed in my throat as I quickly removed my hands from his. 

Turning away I slipped my coat on and took a deep breath before facing him again in need of my shoes. “No no, I meant the secrets.” Pausing I still couldn’t look him in the eyes, I focused on the bitty blue carpet instead. “I want them to know, I want everyone to see how much I love you and always will. You shouldn’t have to feel ashamed or hide, you aren’t worthy of this. I saw this as temporary, the whole hotel thing but no more. I want you to be seen by my side rather than walk out without me.” Pulling his shoes out he motioned for me to wear them instead of my uncomfortable heels, along with his hoodie. “I know you’ll be comfier in these than those, plus it’ll cover your dress.” 

Picking up our things we left, hand in hand. As we stood in the lift I didn’t feel nervous or ashamed to be leaving, I didn’t feel dirty. My hand was in his, we were together. The doors opened and some turned to face us but I no longer felt the judgement, it merely stayed locked in a hotel room.  


A low roar makes me jump as I stare over the city. I look up to see the belly of an aeroplane soaring above us. The vibrations are pretty violent, and I almost fear for the ruins surrounding me. After nearly two hours on a coach, this is the Heraklion that greets us: hot, busy, eclectic. Just one of the stops on our tour of Eastern Crete.  

While I understand the need for an early pick up for this particular trip, it doesn’t mean I like it. Thankfully the air is cool at 6:30 am while we wait for our ride, and we are quick to doze off in its cushioned seats. Halfway to our destination we stop at a roadside café in the middle of nowhere. The driver grabs a much needed coffee, while the rest of us make the most of the fresh doughnuts and orange juice on offer. Tummies full and legs stretched, we quickly doze off again for an hour or so until our driver wakes us up by sharply breaking in a car park. This alerts us to our first: no trip to Crete would be complete without a visit to Knossos.

The last time I came here I was four years old. Now, after studying Classical Civilisation and ancient literature as part of my degree, it is a site I have been desperate to revisit. The Sunday morning heat is uncomfortable but the place isn’t manically busy yet; just a few guides marching groups through narrow spots like the ‘Room with the Copies’ and temporarily blocking them. The swallows that are perched and nesting above doorways do make for good entertainment though, especially when they begin dive-bomb unsuspecting tourists below. The place is certainly fascinating however. The grand staircase and royal apartments offer insight into the sheer scale of the site. My musical background draws me the ‘theatre’ where I take a snap with a well-known travel mag to try and get featured (it doesn’t work). The backdrop to the ancient palace is also stunning, rolling hills and lush green trees framing the site, adding to its grandeur. Yet I must confess myself a little disappointed: while the sheer age of the site certainly makes it impressive, there are elements that dim its raw legitimacy. Patches of red paint mark ‘re-creations’, and square windows have been added in during some points of its excavation. I may sound ungrateful, ignorant even to some; don’t get me wrong, I am incredibly grateful for the preservation of the palace, along with other similar sites across the globe. The re-painted frescos across the palace, made to look suitably aged, are very well executed. I guess I just had an image of a palace whose original architecture had been almost completely preserved, or lay in near complete ruin with its age being the focal point, not some hybrid sitting in-between. Some of the more disparaging sights created by other tourists: a man has been employed to sit a particular spot and shout at people attempting to take pictures stood on top of one of many giant urns, and a gentleman is yelled at after wandering around with a cigarette in his mouth. It is a place that I need to come back to in the low season, I feel, away from the tours and masses of tourists that come stomping through the gate just as we are leaving. Away from those that come here just because it is on some list of places to visit or a hotel excursion. And away from the heat.  

Our next stop, however, fulfils any further questions I may have of the site itself; a short drive into the city centre of Héraklion leads us to the Archaeological Museum. The first three rooms immediately grab my attention, the bright lights making all the gold displayed in cabinets glitter. Our guide book states them as “luxury objects from the Neolithic settlement of Knossos and Prepalatial tholos tombs of the Mesara, as well the burial complexes of Malia, Mochlos, and Archanes”. Any grandeur the palace of Knossos may have lost is certainly compensated for within its safely stored treasures, the pinnacle object for me being the Malian golden bee pendant, displaying Minoan taste at its finest.           There is even a stunning replica of the Knossos palace, which can rival Leavesden Studios’ miniature Hogwarts in terms of detail. My favourite element of the museum, however, has to be the Phaistos disc. The earliest known example of Minoan text, the disc is believed of be of a religious nature, possibly a prayer to a Minoan Goddess (thanks to a 2014 study). In the museum though it sits isolated, both sides displayed in a glass cabinet while a single bright bulb shines above it, making the clay almost appear gold and shimmering. I manage to grab a quick snap of it (don’t worry, I’m allowed to), and smile as a little girl with a very expensive looking camera patiently waits for people to move out of the way so that she can get the perfect picture.

Walking beyond these sparkling treasures, I learn that the museum is very strict: some exhibits cannot be photographed since they have not been formally published yet, which is fair enough. It is also amusing to see grown men flinch at a woman’s bark of “be quiet!” when the level of noise in each room gets a little high, the echoing reprimand reminding me of being told off in a school assembly. Though I am glad to not be the subject of her shouts, it does not deter me from getting as close as I can to each exhibit, beautiful frescos such as the ‘Bull-Leaper’ and a stunning Gold Myrtle wreath proving yet more insight into life inside Knossos.              

By the time we’ve finished in the museum, we don’t really have time to explore the city. There is a chance, however, to grab a coffee and the first slice of ‘real’ baklava I’ve encountered since being in Greece. It should seem fitting then that it is the biggest slice I’ve ever seen. Savouring every crumb I can, I’m amazed by the juxtaposition of the city that surrounds me. We’re in the old part of tow, ruins and tired looking buildings dotted around us, while aeroplanes glide low into the nearby airport, vibrations making the air buzz, and giant ferries hum in the port, destined for Athens.  Settling back in our comfy seats for the long drive back, we expect to arrive at our hotel just before dinner. But just an hour into the journey we make an unexpected stop in Réthymno, Crete’s third and ‘middle’ city.                

“We stay here for a bit. No longer than 45 minutes. Go. Go wander.”

We obey our guide and step out into the surprisingly cooler air of the port of Réthymno, dark clouds above us signalling imminent rain, while a chilly breeze is a welcome breath of fresh air. We walk up a slight hill and are suddenly in the old part of town, the small harbour greeting us echoing Chania’s charm and character. We can see a maze of narrow streets ahead of us, but whether it is the early morning finally catching up with us, the extensive travelling, or the Sunday afternoon attitude in the air, suddenly the canopied bars lining the harbour are incredibly inviting. We pick one with comfy sofas right next the lapping water, old ships tethered up to our right, resting for the day before the tours of the coast begin again tomorrow. Orange juice is again the drink of choice, though the choice of food on the menu is extensive. The table next to us have opted for a fresh fish platter, which seems to contain a myriad of shellfish, squid, swordfish, and others that I don’t recognise. It looks fabulous, though the cats loitering next to the table seem to be getting the lion’s share, perhaps due to on being very clearly pregnant. The hum of a Harley accompanies our quiet drink, speeding away as we had back towards our own ride. We spot other restaurants making the most of the quiet time of day before the crowds roll in, setting up stunning displays of today’s offerings, live crab and lobster attempting to scuttle away before their claws are banded shut.  

Relaxing into the last leg of our journey, I try and remember everything I have seen today, all the treasures and artefacts, everything precious and ancient. Suddenly I become very thankful for the guide book we picked up in Héraklion. Yet it is this last stop that has proved to be the most curious, a place that I have seen signposted but never thought of visiting. As we leave Réthymno the heavens open, and I decide I definitely want to come back here, for a meal at least.  

Oceans (Where Feet May Fail)

Hillsong United


You call me out upon the waters
The great unknown where feet may fail
And there I find You in the mystery
In oceans deep
My faith will stand

And I will call upon Your name
And keep my eyes above the waves
When oceans rise, my soul will rest in Your embrace
For I am Yours and You are mine

Your grace abounds in deepest waters
Your sovereign hand
Will be my guide
Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me
You’ve never failed and You won’t start now

So I will call upon Your name
And keep my eyes above the waves
When oceans rise, my soul will rest in Your embrace
For I am Yours and You are mine

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever You would call me
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander
And my faith will be made stronger
In the presence of my Savior

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever You would call me
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander
And my faith will be made stronger
In the presence of my Savior

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever You would call me
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander
And my faith will be made stronger
In the presence of my Savior

I will call upon Your name
Keep my eyes above the waves
My soul will rest in Your embrace
I am Yours and You are mine

Random talk about what might be classified as an alter

So I’m gonna start out with before I knew I was autistic, I did tons of research on different mental disorders in order to try and figure out what was “wrong” with me. Some would fit close but not spot on, and others made me worry too much about becoming institutionalized. Horrid fear of mental hospitals. One of the ones that fit both sectors was dissociative identity Disorder. The fear surrounding the disorder kept me from talking about the weird brain stuff i had going and I definitely didn’t seek help. It took twenty years before I got a diagnosis of autism, and 18 years before I even looked at getting a therapist.

So I’ll tell you the things I wouldn’t have told anyone a few years back.

I know where I grew up only by state and some vague imagery. I was only about seven when the family moved to Germany and I don’t remeber most things till about last two years of middle school. I have huge gaps of memory, and the few memories I do have I’ve been told years later. So they aren’t fully legit. My mother said I had a imaginary friend named Matt, since I was young. But I don’t remeber even hearing Matt’s voice in my head till that middle school period. Matt showed up, in my memory, when I was in my last year of middle school. I remeber that I was walking to the teen center (basically a day care) when he started yapping about how all my friends would Betray Me. I of course ask who he was and why he would say that. He introduced himself and stated that just as things got worse at home all my friends moved up into highschool and it would always be like that. That started a long difficult relationship of him being negitive and me listening to it.

My dad was emotionally abusive at the least, neglective and strict.

My later therapist would state that due to that and my autism, I have trama.

I dissociated Alot during middle school, I didn’t know it then because I didn’t even know what the word was at the time let alone the many forms. But I did. “Zoning” out, not feeling like my body was mine, not recognizing my face in the mirror, the world feeling unreal, like I was just watching things happen. To this day of you asked me what type of personality I am, I wouldn’t be able to tell you. I hope to funny, smart and caring. But I don’t know what I really am. I don’t have a real sense of self. I’m working on it and making strides but yea :/

Matt always pointed out the negitive and trusted No one. Not that I blame him after all the emotional abuse at home and emotional bulling at school, even from a nurse at one point. But as I grew closer to being 16, the age my mind told me was the no turning back point to adult hood and responsibilities, which I felt I couldn’t handle on my own, which my dad had told me was the worst possible thing and ment I would be a burden to society. He got more aggressive. He’d threaten more and sometimes his words became my words. I got scared. I ended up having two major times he was in more control than I was cool with him having (texting mostly was his allowed control) once he thought the best solution to stop a friend bad joke was to jump up on the balcony railing and threaten to jump off too. My spiritual twin watched in horror as her two friends stood on the edge of a balcony threatening to jump. One joking, one not.

The other time, and I can’t remember the order, I was having a bad emotional day and was sitting in the living room thinking about how stressful things were, when he edged me on to pick up a pocket knife. When I didn’t, he did. He cut my left wrist, small barely notable. And my brother walked in. They talked like everything was normal before my bro started to game. Right behind my brother’s back he made another cut, deeper but same length, than showed it to my bro saying it was cat scratches, a lie I ended up using at school when friend asked about the bandaid on my arm.

I grew fearful of ever letting him control again. I was suicidal but I didn’t want to torture my friends like that. He tested them and I didn’t like it. So I held him in, he boiled and ragged, I would find him sending mean stuff to people online, and messaging a guy who was our friend constantly fighting. I remebered most times it happened but I look back now and though I thought it was only a couple times that one friend talked with Matt, the two talked like old rivals. Idk

Anyway. Now adays I rarely hear him. And get only intrusive thoughts from time to time.

And I want to be able to be open about my mental stuff because there shouldn’t be a stigma to it. People should try and understand them selves and seek help is needed.

I don’t know if I’ve got a dissociative disorder. But if I do, it isn’t a problem. It was a way of coping with what was happening to me. I havn’t killed anyone and I’m still here surviving my trama.

Idk where I was going with this.


I lay in a bed, earphones in. I can hear noises, everything around me is dark, aside from the bright white screen in my face. I dare not look, for I know what will happen if I do. I sit up, looking up at the open door in front of me. I stand, hearing her voice calling for me from behind. She knows that I know she’s there, but, fearfully, I ignore her. I exit the room, entering the brightly lit hallway. It seems every light in the house is on. But, in the place of darkness, fear surrounds me instead.I quickly make my way down the hallway, stopping at a two staircase junction. The one in front of me is clear, but to my right, through my peripherals, I see a figure.

C̯̼̱̕o̼̙͖̰̹̱̟m͏̯̗̼̦̬e̝͈̖̺ h͈̹e͓̰̺ͅr͟e̤

I jump, running down the stairs, throwing open the door. I run outside, sprinting down the street. I can’t believe it I’m… In my old neighborhood?? I run up to my house, slowly opening the door. The lights are on. Nobody was home. I can feel dread hang heavy in my chest as I walk into my bedroom. My room…I look around, then freeze.

Somet͓̗̠̗͈̗h͈̙̫̼͈̠͚͘in͜g d͔̗̟͇͖o͖͚̪e̫͙̯͈͓̩s̬̦̼͔͞n̖͍̪̰'̭̬͓̩̩t̘͇̰͉͝ ͈f̧͎e̖͓̰̯͇̠̫͜ẹ̫̫̦̟l͠ ̤r̸͓ͅi̜̦͚͙͠ģ̭̫̝̟h̝t̟͈̻͙̬̗̜͢

I gasp and run out of my room, opening the door quickly, but scream as a wide eyed man stares at me with bloodshot eyes. I close the door, feeling a presence behind me. I know it’s over so I turn aro-

I ̴̝̘̬̯̝̻̼f̖̯͔o̫̱̠̫u͍̙̪n̠̠̤̦̯d͉͖͞ͅ ̩̭̬̩̹͘y̨̱͎͈̦o̲͔̥͓̰̻u̻̣̩̼

  • Aries:
  • Started all the naughty nights with niceness
  • Landed in a very common crisis
  • Everything's in order in a black hole
  • Everything was pretty in the past though
  • That Bloody Mary's lacking in Tabasco
  • Remember when he used to be a rascal?
  • (Arctic Monkeys - Fluorescent Adolescent)
  • Taurus:
  • The crawlers cover the floor in the red ocher corridor
  • For my second sight of people, they've more lifeblood than before
  • They're moving in time to a heavy wooden door
  • Where the needle's eye is winking, closing in on the poor
  • (Genesis - Carpet Crawlers)
  • Gemini:
  • I can imagine the moment
  • Breaking out through the silence
  • All the things that we both might say
  • And the heart it will not be denied
  • Till we're both on the same damn side
  • All the barriers blown away
  • (Peter Gabriel - Come talk to me)
  • Cancer:
  • And I love the thought of coming home to you
  • Even if I know we can't make it
  • I love the thought of giving hope to you
  • Just a little ray of light shining through
  • (Simply Red - Fairground)
  • Leo:
  • I'm gonna invite you to try my machines
  • Programme an offer you just can't refuse
  • I'm gonna invite you to share all my dreams
  • You've got nothing to lose
  • Recycle your thoughts
  • I'll rewire your mind
  • I'll punch in some new points of view
  • To make sure you find
  • You've got nothing to lose
  • You don't need nobody else but me...
  • (Roger Taylor - Future Management)
  • Virgo:
  • There must be some misunderstanding
  • There must be some kind of mistake
  • I waited in the rain for hours
  • And you were late
  • Now it's not like me to say the right thing
  • But you could've called to let me know
  • I checked your number twice, don't understand it
  • So I went home
  • (Genesis - Misunderstanding)
  • Libra:
  • Your grace abounds in deepest waters
  • Your sovereign hand
  • Will be my guide
  • Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me
  • You've never failed and You won't start now
  • So I will call upon Your name
  • And keep my eyes above the waves
  • When oceans rise
  • My soul will rest in Your embrace
  • For I am Yours and You are mine
  • (Hillsong United - Oceans)
  • Scorpio:
  • Sheets of double glazing help to keep outside the night
  • Only foreign city sirens can cut through
  • Nylon sheets and blankets help to minimize the cold
  • But they can't keep out the chilling sounds
  • Will the nightmare soon give way to dreaming
  • That she is here with me?
  • (Genesis - Domino)
  • Sagittarius:
  • Gather round the bar let's have a race
  • I want to see how much beer I can pour into my face
  • Bottoms up down it goes, sending bubbles up my nose
  • Pick me up and lay me somewhere safe
  • Don't stand me up I'll fall, lean me up against the wall
  • Never touch the demon drink again
  • All I'll touch is tea
  • Alcohol's destroying me.
  • (John Entwistle - Big Chicken)
  • Capricorn:
  • I was born one mornin' when the sun didn't shine
  • I picked up my shovel and I walked to the mine
  • I loaded sixteen tons of number nine coal
  • And the straw boss said "Well, a-bless my soul"
  • You load sixteen tons, what do you get
  • Another day older and deeper in debt
  • Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go
  • I owe my soul to the company store
  • (Tennessee Ernie Ford - Sixteen Tons)
  • Aquarius:
  • When the night shows
  • the signals grow on radios
  • All the strange things
  • they come and go, as early warnings
  • Stranded starfish have no place to hide
  • still waiting for the swollen Easter tide
  • There's no point in direction we cannot
  • even choose a side.
  • I took the old track
  • the hollow shoulder, across the waters
  • On the tall cliffs
  • they were getting older, sons and daughters
  • The jaded underworld was riding high
  • Waves of steel hurled metal at the sky
  • and as the nail sunk in the cloud, the rain
  • was warm and soaked the crowd.
  • (Peter Gabriel - Here Comes The Flood)
  • Pisces:
  • Early in the morning
  • The sun was up and the sky was very blue
  • Without a warning
  • As I looked out, my thoughts returned to you.
  • A noise in the city made the children run
  • And hide themselves away
  • And thunder boomed and lightning filled the sky.
  • Looking from this window
  • A thousand rivers running past my door
  • Standing on an island
  • Looking for someone upon the shore
  • I cane see it very clearly, nothing's really changed
  • Then lightning strikes across an empty sky.
  • (ELO - The Rain Is Falling)
There is no excuse for police brutality

I will literally not budge on this


You call me out upon the waters
The great unknown where feet may fail
And there I find You in the mystery
In oceans deep my faith will stand

And I will call upon Your name
And keep my eyes above the waves
When oceans rise
My soul will rest in Your embrace
For I am Yours and You are mine

Your grace abounds in deepest waters
Your sovereign hand will be my guide
Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me
You’ve never failed and You won’t start now

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever You would call me

Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander
And my faith will be made stronger
In the presence of my Savior

Words will never be able to express how much this character has changed my life in recent years. I’ve seen what a strong, smart, vulnerable beautiful bisexual woman Callie has come to be, how Sara’s portrayal and grace have inspired millions of youth to strive in being theirselves. I have learned what it means to love fiercely, what it means to truly search for who I am despite the obstacles and fear surrounding me. Women can be funny, women can be scared and still succeed! I’ve learned that having insecurities is okay, it’s a part of who I am, but how I use that to prevail in life is what matters. Callie Torres has taught me to love myself & Sara has taught me to stay true to myself. I am forever grateful for Callie Torres, and though she won’t be gone forever, she will surely never be forgotten.

The Riley Diaries Pt4

AU: Riley Matthews is a regular teen,until one day,she is not. Can moving away erase your past? Can you ever move on if you don’t actually accept it? Riley Matthews was a regular teen,until one day,she wasn’t.

tw: mentions of sexual assault

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part6 Part7 Part8 Part9 Part10 Part11 Part12 Part13 Part14 Part15 Part16 Part17 Part18 Part19


“Rise and shine, sleepy head.”

I felt a soft kiss on my head as I covered my face with the blue covers.

“Is it morning again? Can’t I sleep in? And more importantly, do I have to go to school?”

My father laughed at the moans that could hardly be heard under my sheets.

“That would be yes, no and a huge yes. Get up, you lazy teenager.”

I laughed and uncovered my face and flashed my sweetest smile. It didn’t work.

“Okay, okay.” I laughed. “I will be down in 10.”

My father turned his back as I whispered quietly to myself “Or 30.”

“I heard that.”

“Well, I need to look good to go to school. People call it beauty sleep but I always wake up looking like a gnome so I have to do something about it.”

“You look like a gnome anyway.” My father stuck his tongue out as he shut the door of my room.

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9 Months of Bliss

In the month of April my soul was half full

Not enough food but just enough life

In the month of May it improved

It began to get full and things were slightly looking up

In the month of June it imploded.

Bursting at the seams and completely full

In the month of July it was full

And August

Full again

September came and it was overflowing 

Keywords: Fear; Passion

October came and fear was surrounding me 

Fear was the guard surrounding my passion in the castle that was my soul

November my soul cleared out




It was as if it was nonexistent

In the month of November I loved more than I did in the month of June

Now its the month of January 

Nothing is left but passion -RC