feeling the weight of the world

flightyhead  asked:

Clarke feels so much softer in your writings than she does in canon. Quieter. I like it a lot. I'd hope that this is the state of mind she'll reach in canon too, someday.

thank you! I think she is like that in canon, though, at least when the weight of the world isn’t on her mind. We saw it when she was with Finn/L, and several times over with Bellamy, in those quieter moments in between the fatalities. She’s so very soft with him. But I do hope one day we get to see that part of her more often, yes :’)

anonymous asked:

RE veggie anon's question "is it internalized fatphobia to be happy about losing weight" : I don't think you should blame yourself for that completely rational instinct. Losing weight in today's world means you'll be complimented, treated better, able to find clothes, and so on. Basically, the bully stops picking on you. It's NOT WRONG to not want to be picked on! The blame is ALWAYS on the bully! (1/2) *

           * (2/2) And just to be very clear, I’m NOT saying “we fat people should lose weight so the world will leave us alone! The world should leave us alone PERIOD (that’s what this blog is about, right? lol). My point is just that IF a fat person happens to lose weight for whatever reason, they don’t need to feel ashamed about feelings of happiness or relief at being more “safe”. It’s understandable!

You’re absolutely right. We all have grown up in an extremely fatphobic society, so naturally we internalize it. Getting over self-hatred and learning to accept one’s fat self takes years and years.

And yet, after years of learning to accept my fat self, I still can’t help but feel happy when I lose like 5 lbs because of the fatphobic ideal that fat=unhealthy.

-Mod Egg

Well holy shit. I finally saw you. Just a glimpse but it was really, truly, unmistakably you. And no, it wasn’t the best circumstances I could have hoped for, but I actually teared up and smiled a little because I was just so happy to see the you that I knew (or close enough) still alive and kicking. Goddamnit I fuckin love you. I don’t even need to be with you and I don’t even care what you think of me, I know how I feel because all of a sudden, in like, the span of ten seconds, after so many months, I can breathe a little easier and the world looks a little brighter and clearer just knowing you’re still in it and still out there fighting & up to your old shenanigans. I do still miss you awfully bad & I hope you’re genuinely happy and don’t think too terribly of me if you think of me at all but, yeah…it’s like a massive weight just lifted, I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time & closer to being able to truly let go.


So I’ve had this one sitting around for I think three years now after finishing it for SDCC one year and proceeding to get only one picture of me in it, behind a table.  So when my local Jedi Temple arranged a Jedi themed photoshoot, I decided to bring this one back out!

It was actually a surprising confidence booster for me; I gained a lot of weight when I started working at DreamWorks (first world problems: they feed us two free meals a day, I was warned about the weight gain when I was hired), and for a while none of my old costumes fit me at all.  This one still needed a little tweaking, but overall I love it and feel great wearing it, which I was not necessarily expecting in a midriff dress.

BONUS PICTURE: these badass mofos, my temple-mates, my fellow nerds.

Many more photos will follow, but good times were had today. :D

If you wake up feeling like a bad memory let me remind that you’re real, that you’re important. if you wake up and feel like background noise let me play you on repeat until you get stuck in my head. if you wake up and the weight of the world is weighing you down, give it to me, I’ll carry it for you. if you wake up and can’t find a single thing worth loving about yourself, if you wake up and feel like there’s not a single bone in your body that this is good enough, let me convince you that you’re wrong. if you wake up feeling like anything less than what you are, and what you are is awe inspiring, music I can’t stop dancing to, summer time clouds, let me in, you have so many people banging on the doors trying to get to you, open it up.
—  laceerainspoetry, we’re here if you need us

Listen, if you are struggling with feeling bad about your weight or loving your body or feeling good about how you look, here’s what’s up: you are worthy of all the love in the world. You are not the sum of your physical parts. Your body doesn’t define you. Anyone who would make you believe different is lying to you. And that voice in your head that tells you that you’re only deserving of love or that you’ll only be happy if you lose that weight or if your skin clears up or if you fix your hair is lying most of all. You deserve happiness and love and the excitement of life NOW. If you can’t hear over all those voices, I’ll remind you. You are so worth everything. I love you.


Holy shit. I was feeling really bad today because I haven’t been consistent with my workouts for the past two weeks but I also just realized that I should still be proud because of how far I’ve come considering I’ve lost 80 pounds in less than a year. I started in size 18 pants in June and am currently in a size 6. I need to keep telling myself that it’s all about progress and not perfection. Even though I’m stuck at the same weight and I have been for about two weeks, I am still worlds away from where I started in 2016 and I’m feeling the best that I’ve ever felt in my life. Time to get serious and get back on it because running my mouth won’t make shit happen.


Hold out your hand
Can you feel the weight of it
The whole world at your fingertips
Don’t be, don’t be afraid
Our mistakes, they were bound to be made
But I promise you I’ll keep you safe.

Happy birthday, VIKTOR. 

Repeat after me:

Fat people should be able look in the mirror without feeling like the world thinks they’re ugly.  

Fat people should be able to see themselves as the main character, not a sidekick at best, or a slobbish pig at worst. 

Fat people should be able to speak about themselves positively without some random fuckhead saying “Um, stop promoting obesity it’s unhealthy.”

Fat people should be able to get treatment for medical problems without doctors immediately assuming the weight is the problem. 

Fat people should be able to find nice, cheap clothes as easily as any skinny person. 

Fat people should be treated like people, not some horrific blight on society. 

#transformationtuesday 2015 vs 2017 ➡️ I’ve always known shame, my unwitting sidekick, since childhood- long before I knew its name. Looking back, in a ironic way it was shame that was one of the main catalysts that drove me to try to be successful. To try to be liked. To try to be accepted. To try to fit in. To try to become more. To prove something to the world. But at the same time, it was that same shame that was the weight around my neck, the stones in my shoes, the constant naysayer and saboteur. I remember a time before shame when I was fearless as a child and did everything with freedom. It wasn’t until I started to express a desire to wear girlier stuff around 7-8, and got beaten up by my dad for it a number of times that I started to question what I did and started to feel ashamed and wrong. Once I learned how poorly I fit in with other boys and was tortured by them, the shame snowballed exponentially. But as I grew up, I made the most of the momentum that my shame and anger created. I made a career out of tapping into it musically. I manufactured and refined this “tough persona” on the outside to try to be what I thought I should be and to protect my vulnerability. I had ups and I had downs, but through everything, shame was there- influencing. Even though coming out as transgender has felt impossibly tough at times, its not 1/1000th as hard as quietly living ashamed of yourself and your feelings every single day. I didn’t realize that I had this wet blanket over my whole life at all times for the last 20 years until it was gone. Accepting myself, being honest with the people I love and choosing not to run from this anymore has allowed me a self-pride and freedom I forgot existed and allowed me to appreciate happiness in my life. Thanks to things like Instagram and Tumblr, I’m also constantly reminded I’m not alone anymore now. When I leave my house, people can think whatever they want about me but I’m finally feeling truly proud of myself and who I am. Feeling whole. And erasing the shame.

Phone Cleansing- Why and How

Why would you need/want to cleanse your phone? 

Well if you think about it, our phones are one of the few objects on our person at all times. It is our connection to a larger world, we have an infinite amount of knowledge in our pockets at all times. We also have Neko Atsume. But that’s not the point. 

The point is, when an object like that is with us 24/7, it can pick up a lot of residual energy, both positive and negative. But when it becomes so clogged with energy, it becomes this source of blockage, and we carry this extra weight with us everywhere we go. 

So if you feel weighed down, consider cleansing you phone. 

Ways to cleanse: 

  • Delete old contacts. Focus on reconnecting with those who mean the most
  • Delete old pictures. Upload some of your favorites to Google Drive and have them printed off. Sure, there’s always Facebook, but having a few physical photos around can really lift the mood of your space. 
  • Get rid of old apps. Not only are they clogging your memory, but they can also be a huge time suck. I am hella guilty of this, especially with game/puzzle apps. 
  • Take the time to organize your apps into folders. It will help you find what you need faster. 
  • Change up your wallpaper, ringtones, and text alerts. We can become so used to a particular sound that it goes unnoticed. 
  • If you need a deeper cleansing, replace a cracked phone screen or broken case. I like to get some cheap cases in a solid color and then play with different designs. 
  • Lastly, set a crystal of your choice on top of your phone while it charges, to infuse the positive energy into it. 

And that’s it! Hope this gives you some ideas on how to clean up your phone. Add some of your favorites too!

Many blessings- Kate

Yesterday I was sad.
Today I am sad.
Tomorrow I will be sad.
—  That’s depression for you.
At one point of the day it’s always going to feel like it’s all too much, like the weight of the world is on your shoulders.
One little word makes you crumble, one tiny event makes you wish you never existed.
I’m so sick of it. I’m so sick of thinking that I’m doing so well, then it all comes crashing down and left in tears wishing I was never born and left wondering what did I ever do to deserve this life?
And at times it will feel like the entire world is plotting against you and the weight of it will feel like iron upon your shoulders.
You must stay strong.
You must not give in. Under no circumstances do you give in to the voices.
I know that it is hard. I know that right now you want nothing more than to give up.
Better days will come one day. Maybe not tomorrow. But someday. Your story isn’t over yet

It’s been a long day of inking and coloring. So please let me know which one is your favorite! Initial I made the blue one then the brown and finally the red.

Oh and this is my piece for Light Grey Art Lab’s “To Be You exhibition”. The piece is a bit of a self portrait, and I am always thinking about how much time and what my fate is and my path in this amazing creative world.

I have lily of the valley through out the piece because they are my mom’s favorite. Also lost of ferns and a fallen tree because I spent so much time in the woods building trails with my dad. Clock gears to represent the machine like quality that makes me feel a little less human, but they also represent my diving into art nouveau through steampunk (never forget your roots!) The scissors are there to help me cut away the threads of fate that are not my true path. The clock weights are the pressure I put on myself to achieve all my goals. and of course two bells at the bottom of the belt because I love Naruto and the strong characters and years of dedication Masashi Kishimoto put into his craft. 

i know looking in the mirror with tears streaming down your cheeks is no fun and it’s hard to pull yourself together after you’ve just collapsed and you feel like everything inside of you is pulling in opposite directions and your body can’t decide which way to follow so you’re ripping at the seams and you’re bleeding; you can’t stop bleeding. and so you get weaker and your limbs feel too heavy to drag behind you all the time and the weight of the world is just a bit too crushing for your shoulders to burden and you’re falling behind. everyone else is running through life at a comfortable pace but you can’t even bring yourself to get up and attempt to race and you so you start to lose hope and you forget to open your eyes even once just to look at the sky and so all you belong to is darkness and everything seems hopeless and you want to give up. but i’m telling you, don’t. i know the stars have stopped whispering advice to you in your sleep so you could wake up and think it was a dream and i know you don’t really sleep anymore and everything seems like too much but it’s not. you are the universe inside of a person and you are bursting with light. all that blood is not beauty, but it is constellations and you are filled with that vast darkness speckled with stars and planets and life. and i know you’re always trying to hollow yourself out and your heart feels like it’s faced it’s very last explosion but you can withstand so much more. there is still so much left for you. you just have to get back up and start finding it again.

when andrew touches neil he is not gentle, he’d never treat neil like he’s fragile because he isn’t, but he’s careful. careful not to reopen wounds, careful not to push too hard, careful to always gain consent before moving forward. he kisses him like the world is ending and neil loves the feeling of andrew’s weight on top of him. it grounds him. it’s home and he is safe here

Some days, John looks in the mirror and all he can see is time. The way it’s written into the lines on his forehead and around his mouth. The way it settles heavy and full into the bags beneath his eyes. The way it seeps from every enlarged pore, every pock mark, every scar. He feels the weight of it creaking in his joints as he cleans his teeth, as he shaves, as he runs his fingers through his fringe gone nearly silver now. His days at war, his days at work, his days of worry and regret have all taken their toll, every old memory etched into the crumbling bricks of bone that hold him up, each new sunset carving another fresh tally into his skin so that all the world can count his passing days.

He looks in the mirror and wonders how Sherlock can want this. Want him. Sherlock, who is still lithe and lean and limber. Sherlock, who is still ceaselessly and seductively sharp. Sherlock, who, despite the years, is still just as breathtaking as the day they met.

A distant mumble tells him, come back to bed, so John takes one last look at the haggard thing in the mirror and sighs. When he steps back into the bedroom, it’s steady and quiet and calm and not at all like running away.

He tries to find comfort in the sleep-slow smile Sherlock aims his way, but the sight of him there–tangled in their sheets, sunlight glowing on his skin, his very existence radiating unimaginable beauty and strength and life–makes John ache in all the hollowed, rotting spaces between withered muscle and brittle bone.

He wants to flee, to fly, to fling himself headlong into danger and daring until he can escape the tick-tock claws of time pulling at his flesh. He wants to curl up and hide and be left alone in his putrefaction, some place far away where his decay will go unnoticed. He wants to do anything but crawl back into bed with this impossible reminder of everything he’s not.

But he does it anyway because what else is there to do when the man you love tells you to?

He’s barely beneath the sheets before Sherlock is on top of him, his long frame caging John in, his hands cupping John’s face, holding him, trapping him there like a wounded thing. Don’t, John starts to say, but the word won’t slip past the dust in his throat and he swallows it back down unsaid. They lie there, the ticking minutes scratching needle-sharp at John’s spine, Sherlock’s thumbs brushing feather-soft over his cheeks, until the contrast is overwhelming. Soft and sharp. Young and old. Sherlock and John. 

He tries to will away the tears he can feel welling at the corners of his eyes, wanting to turn away, to burrow himself into the mattress, but Sherlock just holds him and looks and looks and looks. When John looks at Sherlock, he sees the same man he fell in love with, but he wonders how Sherlock can look at him now and see anything but the old man he’s become. 

When the first tear finally falls, Sherlock brushes his lips against John’s, warm and gossamer and sweet. 

I see you, he whispers. 

Only you.

this is for you. the one that feels permanently damaged. the one that doesn’t think things could or ever will get better. the one that doesn’t want to see the light of tomorrow because they think nothing’s going to change.

stay alive, it really does get better. life can’t always be as awful as it may be right now. you deserve to be happy and you will get there. i believe in you, even if no one else does, though i’m sure that at least one other person does.

and in case nobody ever bothered to tell you this, i will tell you it: i am proud of you. so fucking proud of you for getting out of bed every single day and carrying on, even when it feels like you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. i am so proud of you for continuing to fight. you are so strong. please remember that.