for those who fail to comprehend

In the face of adversity, they stand firm. They aren’t terrorized by human bigotry that thrusts conventionality upon their right of choice–their right to love. Advocated by their supporters’ unabating faith, they flourish–never surrendering because true love doesn’t waver–it doesn’t bend–it doesn’t sway–their love is a stone; petrified material which frightens those who fail to comprehend its depth; those who are intimidated by their love. For it is a love which wields honesty, exercises sincerity, and never yields to the command of the unjust. True love is Kaisoo, and they thrive in us.

Midnight Masquerade - Part 5

Originally posted by beautiful-as-vampire

Genre: Vampire! AU | Angst | Fluff

Synopsis: Your best friend drags you into attending a masquerade ball with her, only to abandon you in the middle of the strange dance. Standing alone in the midst of a flurry of people, the events that play out here change the course of your life; only to leave you wondering; who is under the mask? 

Pairing: Reader X Yoongi

Word count: 1555

Warnings: None for this part.

Series: Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5 | Pt 6 | Pt 7 | Pt 8 | Pt 9 | Pt 10

(A/N: Ah, I’m not entirely sure how this came out, feedback would be much appreciated! I hope you guys enjoy though!)


“I should’ve known.”

Those three words echoed through your head all night, leaving you restless as you relentlessly tossed from side to side trying to work out the meaning behind the cryptic phrase. What was it she wasn’t telling you? She knew something. Something important, and yet she was keeping it from you.

Forcing yourself up in the morning, you pushed your disheveled hair out of your tired eyes, groaning as the realisation that you had to attend university that day, and resume normal life as if nothing had happened. As if your best friend wasn’t dead. As if you weren’t bitten by a strange man who you were starting to believe - as insane as it sounded to you - could well be a vampire of some sort, like something straight out of Twilight. You still struggled to wrap your head around the idea, your mind not able to comprehend the concept of mythical creatures such as vampires. You sat up in your bed, staring directly at the wall as you thought over everything. Subconsciously tilting your head to the side in thought, you wondered, if that man was truly a vampire, would the bite take effect on you too? Sighing, you shook your head as you finally climbed out of bed, the thought sounding ridiculous to you, and yet strangely true.

“(Y/N)!” You heard your mother calling from the other room. “You need to go to uni today, honey!” Her tone sounded fairly enthusiastic, but with an undertone of fatigue, like she had been up all night as well.

In as lively a tone as you could muster, you called back, “Yeah, I know, mum, I’m getting up.” Your hand involuntarily flew up to touch the fading bite mark once again, like you found yourself doing often, your fingers running over the small indents in your skin. “How am I just supposed to act like nothing happened?” You pondered, your head still clouded in total confusion. If you were ever going to be able to focus on anything, you had to find answers to the questions that kept you up all night. You had to find out everything.

**

Yoongi stared into the mirror, his fingers brushing over the pale skin of his face. All he could think about for the past few days was the girl with the red mask, as he glanced over his bedside table at that very mask. Your scent was intoxicating, addicting even, as a strange feeling stirred in his chest. You filled his thoughts constantly, as he found his mind wandering off, thinking about how your hair tumbled down your shoulders effortlessly, the way a few strands of your hair fell into your face. The way your soft eyes widened at the sight of him. You were no ordinary human, that he was sure of. At first glance, he thought you were one of their kind, although your skin only had a slight tinge of paleness compared to the marble-like skin of every other vampire he had seen. So, when he saw a blush rising up to your cheeks, a feeling of confusion clouded his mind. Since when did vampires blush? Were you a human then? But that couldn’t be it either.

That room was not supposed to be visible to humans. He often resided in that room during the extravagant balls, often preferring peace and quiet over the loud music and the murmur of voices in the ballroom. So… what exactly were you?

“Hyung!” Yoongi heard a familiar voice from outside his room, turning around, his eyebrows furrowing in slight annoyance, only to see Jimin pop his head through the doorway, eyes twinkling as his plump lips curled up in a mischievous smile. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready? You know how your dad is with your education.”

Of course he knew. It was his father who insisted he attend university and “do something useful with your life”, in his father’s own words. His father seemed to think that the only valid profession was a doctor or a engineer, or something “respectable” like that, and so Yoongi was relentlessly pushed into it against his own accord, and had no choice but to accept. It had been a few months since the first year had started, and he had only just began adjusting to the heavy workload and the concept of socialising with others.

“What about you?” Yoongi inquired, looking Jimin up and down. His outfit was a contrast to his embroidered tuxedo from a couple nights before, instead wearing a simple baggy white T-shirt with a pair of black shorts and a black beanie to match. Pulling his backpack off his shoulder and setting it down on the floor, the smile never once left Jimin’s face, as he replied, “You know everyone’s ready right? We’re all waiting on you.” Playfully punching Yoongi’s shoulder, he said, “Hurry up, grandpa, we haven’t got all day.” With that, Jimin proceeded to sling his backpack over his shoulder, casually walking out in typical Jimin fashion once again.

“This boy.” Yoongi shook his head, one corner of his lips twitching slightly as he tried to repress a smile. Looking back over at the mask one last time, he sighed, throwing his wardrobe door open, as he finally began to get ready for yet another gruelling day of university.

**

Staring out of the window of your mother’s small car, you self-consciously readjusted the turtleneck you were wearing, constantly worrying that someone would somehow see the bite mark. That wasn’t going to be easy to explain, to say the least. Looking down at the lit screen of your phone, you felt a pang of pain, like something had just stabbed your heart when you saw the ever-so-familiar picture of Mina and you. You didn’t have the heart to change it, instead serving as a reminder not to go to strange places. You realised that your day was likely to be much quieter without Mina’s constant chatter to accompany you. At least, that’s what you thought.

Finally pulling up by the fields surrounding your university, your mother turned to face you, a sympathetic smile etched on her face. “You’ll be okay, right?” She asked, her tone softening with concern for you.

Forcing a smile, you replied with as much enthusiasm as you could muster, “I’ll be fine, honestly. No big deal…” It felt you were trying to convince yourself rather than your mother, but she seemed satisfied with your answer, her eyes looking over you once more before you grabbed your backpack, slowly slinging it over your shoulder as you stepped out of the car.

Forcing your feet to move forward, you trudged towards the huge building, taking a deep breath before you stepped into the building, your head beginning to thump once again as students pushed and barged past you, causing you to have to force yourself through the stampede of people to reach the hall your lecture was being held in.

After finally escaping the crowd in one piece, you leaned against the wall by the door to the hall, patting your hair down so that you looked at least decent. Tilting your head slightly towards the door, you noticed a group of boys walking past, your curiosity piquing as a feeling of familiarity stirred in your chest. One of the guys pushed the door wide open with a shove, brushing his jet-black hair out of his eyes. Another of them, blonde haired this time, flashed a quick smile at you, the rectangular shape of his smile seeming strangely familiar, as he walked inside with the other remaining boys. Maybe they did the same course as you, you pondered, your mind recalling how you’d spotted them in previous lectures before. That must be it, you decided, and yet there was still a strange feeling nudging at the back of your mind.

Taking your seat in the large lecture hall, you set your bag down on the adjacent seat, tapping your pen on the hard surface of the desk. You noticed your bag being set down on the floor, however, and so your eyes trailed up to meet those of none other than your best friend, Mina. Your mind failed to comprehend the situation, that your best friend, who you thought was dead - you were certain you saw her seemingly dead with her own eyes - was standing there in front of you, her eyes twinkling in her usual mischievous manner. Something was different though, as you squinted your eyes in disbelief, your eyes scanning over her over and over again, as if to check if she really was there in front of you. As you looked over her for what seemed like the tenth time, you realised what was up. Her skin was almost the same marble-like colour of those people you had come across, the sparkle in her eyes just like the one you’d seen in the other mysterious men, that sparkle that left you immobilised, unable to take your eyes off.

“Mina?” You finally uttered, your body completely frozen in disbelief. “How… what… how?”

“Aw, did you miss me?” She winked, a shiver running up your spine as you still tried to wrap your head around the situation.

Your best friend was alive. And she was one of them.

A word on “understanding” from a Dzogchen perspective, using the Sephiroth to illustrate the concept (excuse my shitty finger-scribbled diagram).

See the red arrows going upward? This is how our society currently assumes understanding to come. First you gain Knowledge on a subject, then you are expected to Understand it, from which you can gain Wisdom/experience. This is an ass-backwards approach that stems from the ego’s skewed perspective on how understanding comes about.

Knowledge is a made up concept–some people can pick up on books and explanations and gain some kind of abstract understanding but as schools have found this is not an exact science and requires a huge base of prior knowledge–like being able to read, understanding of related ideas, the ability to count, etc..

See the green arrows? This is the natural flow beginning with Being itself–the experience of the moment. By going through the experience first hand in full awareness you gain Wisdom on the topic–which directly translates into a deep Understanding of the topic. From this Knowledge is created, or associated depending on the understanding being preexisting or previously undiscovered.

There are many abstract sciences which we have as a society now which will require a strong theoretical and intellectual understanding of the knowledge base before you can experiment first hand but the idea still stands. True Understanding is in the hands of those who have the Wisdom of first hand experience, they are the ones who create the Knowledge for others to view–like a hologram of their understanding and experience.

What’s the point of all of this? Put yourself out there, experience, create, try and fail as many times as you need–this is where understanding truly comes from. Books and knowledge are great, we are blessed to have the resources and tools along the way but they are little use unless their wielder is manifesting the experience, traversing the plains of the aspect of reality they are yearning to comprehend.

To add an example:
You can learn all you can learn about archery on the Internet, but if you keep trying to think it through rather than remain in full awareness during the experience then your learning will be very slow. If you’re not paying full attention you might not notice that right at the last moment your arm trembles and offsets the aim. If you are, however, fully present then your mind will automatically make adjustments for any mistakes you might notice, it will automatically improve that which it notices is working well.

Your unconscious mind is a powerhouse–feed it by paying attention and off it goes like a quantum computer.

A Practice in Happy Memories

You always felt a little guilty whenever you performed magic in front of Credence. Despite his clear potential and strength in magical abilities, he was incredibly far back in terms of structure and discipline and therefore couldn’t readily concoct a decent spell to save his life. Not that he would; the poor dear was filled to the brim with worry over who he could harm or what he could damage, still recovering from that unfortunate day when he broke down into Obscurial form. 

But he was quite happy to watch you make objects float or transform one thing into another. And you, being his loving other half, were not one to disappoint. Sometimes after his lessons with Tina or Queenie, he would come back excitedly and ask if you were aware of or able to perform that day’s lesson as well. Sometimes, you would smile lightly and shake your head; but usually, you were capable enough. It was one day when he came back from his lessons, quieter than usual. 

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I was incredibly inspired by a statement one of my Instagram followers made recently in a letter they wrote to me: “..art must be imperfect to be perfect”. When I was younger I probably would have read this statement and rolled my eyes or laughed - thinking it something people say to make themselves feel better about a performance gone not quite as they wanted. But over the years I have found this statement to be more true than I can comprehend.
We are humans living out our lives trying to be as perfect and successful as humanly….impossible. Of course it’s wonderful to have ambitions and goals, and a solid work ethic, but we lose out on a lot when those things become our only objective and we are blinded to everything else around us. Ironically, it is the people who refuse to see anything but success as acceptable that ultimately fail. What’s also interesting is that it is those failures, and imperfections in our lives and in ourselves that make other people feel like they can connect to us on a personal level. When we can connect with so many people on that kind of level, that’s when we begin to change the world for the better - and shouldn’t that be the real definition of success?
Some of you may know that I grew up crafting a lot with my hands - sewing, crocheting, knitting etc. But you many not know that many of the best artisans in the world purposely put imperfections into their work as a symbol of their craftsmanship. Art is only perfect if it is imperfect.
Thus I have gone out of my comfort zone to post a video of something that I am never entirely comfortable playing. I’m always grateful that there is an orchestra behind me during the section of the Tchaikovsky concerto because it masks the imperfections in the sound that are practically inevitable here. But since I encourage so many of you to put your own art out there no matter the level of perfection, I figure I should follow my own words and do the same.❤️
🔊Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto: Allegro Moderato

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Why I Love Naru: Ever the Gallant Knight, He is

I’d been writing fanfiction of GH for a long time now, and I’d watched the anime and read the light novels and the manga a lot of times too. However, I’d never collected my thoughts and written my views about why–despite Naru’s narcissism, workaholic-ism, and arrogance–his character could be very lovable, so, finally after re-watching some anime episodes, I decided to share my thoughts.

Naru is hardly the only male character out there who is narcissistic and arrogant. Kyou from Tamago no Kimi!, for instance, displays similar characteristics.

LOL Naru does not go through such comedic lengths, but you get the drift with the mirror. XD

What makes Naru a narcissist, however, is not just his “love of self.” Naru fails to empathize with people too. I do not think, though, that he has a narcissistic personality disorder (NPD). Someone who has NPD is hardly sincere in the emotions he or she shows the world. Yes, Naru can fake emotions (e.g. smiling like he’s happy/amused) like those with NPD (and anyone who can act, really), but Naru also shows sincere emotions  similar or not to others and in appropriate times (even though he might not comprehend it). Someone who has NPD always pretends to have the same emotions as others (for manipulative purposes). Someone who has NPD has a somewhat absolute lack of empathy for others while someone who just have narcissistic tendencies still possesses empathy but he or she may have a delay in empathizing; this means that it takes time before the person feels or understands what others feel (e.g. see Ep 17 of GH). 

(Note that I use empathy and not sympathy. Empathy is understanding and sharing/relating to others’ feelings because you’ve experienced the same situation/event while sympathy is understanding others’ feelings and giving comfort to others although you haven’t experienced the same situation/event. Empathizers also give comfort, of course.)

In Naru’s case, he rarely feels what others feel, but he understands what others feel. Yet, he does not understand/relate immediately. This delay in empathizing, of course, does not always occur. There are times that Naru does immediately empathize. That is, he understands what others feel as he experiences the same situation as them. And in such times, he is ever the gallant knight.

When he and Mai were trapped in a manhole and haunted by a ghost, he understood and knew what Mai felt. Beyond that he knew how Mai could be in such situations (that is, eliminating the fact that he knows Mai’s personality/coping strategies very well), Naru most likely, exactly understood what she felt at that moment, as he experienced the same situation, and so he went protecting and comforting mode.

And NOPE, a few words were not enough to comfort Mai. He understood that, in the present situation, sparse words were not enough, so–

And then, he understood further that mental comfort was not enough, so–

He gave physical comfort without hesitation.

So, with mental + physical comfort…

Me:

The fact that he not only understands but also knows what to do makes him very lovable. And the fact that he shows this side of him usually with Mai makes him and Mai, indubitably, OTP (that and it’s canon although not written by Ono-sensei) for me.

Next post–Why I Love Naru: The Genius Advises

anonymous asked:

I'm sorry if this comes as offensive because I'm not trying to offend you: your metas and your slow mo gifs are entertaining and funny but half of the things you say don't make sense to me. I'm not homophobic (the thousands of fanfics are enough proof of that) but I fail to see Johnlock. I'm not kidding. I don't see it. When I talk to nay-ers they say it's because the johnlockers are crazy. Now I'll try to ask the other side. Who'd the crazy in your opinion?

Hello! No need to apologize, I’m not offended. And thanks re: the metas and gifs. :)

I don’t think either “side” is crazy. And I definitely don’t think everyone who doesn’t believe John and Sherlock are in love is homophobic. That’s absolutely untrue.

I do think the heteronormative lens is very powerful, and difficult to comprehend (especially for those who don’t want to accept it exists). This has been said many times, but the simplest way to put it is that if the roles of Sherlock and John had been cast as a man and a woman and the writing and everything else remained the same, the debate would not exist at all. Sexual tension between a man and a woman is never explained away as a sort of coincidental element in their particularly deep platonic friendship. Even if people didn’t ship the couple, they’d still see where the show was going. A slow-building romance.

Here’s a simpler way to say it: viewers generally default characters to heterosexual unless explicitly told otherwise through dialogue or blatant stereotyping.

As far as things in my metas not making sense, I understand what you’re saying. And you’ve asked me this very respectfully, so please know I’m answering honestly here and am not in any way trying to insult you.

I write fiction for a living. It’s not a hobby – it’s how I pay the bills. I have a few novels in bookstores and several more under contract. I also teach creative writing, and I’ve written a few scripts for a very small production company. That’s why my metas focus mostly on metaphor and subtext and such, because those are standards in any writer’s toolbox. I know how to use them, and I know how to identify them when they’re used by other writers. Moffat, Gatiss, and Thompson are highly experienced, skilled, successful writers. They know what they’re doing.

You’ve probably read other metas on this show as well. Some are written by film school students and graduates. Some are written by actors. Some are written by photographers, some are written by gender studies majors, musicians, doctors…and so on. They all use their expertise to shed light on certain elements of this show. And at one point or another, a lot of them have been called crazy, too.

Some people think claiming that an episode of a show contains an metaphorical mystery illustrating one character’s unspoken revelation of love sounds crazy. 

To a writer, it’s not crazy at all.

Some people think analyzing the objects on a character’s desk in order to better interpret his mental state sounds crazy. 

To a production designer, it’s not crazy at all.

Some people think using lighting and shot composition to explain a character’s emotions or secret desires sounds crazy. 

To a still photographer, it’s not crazy at all.

Some people think studying themes and motifs in a soundtrack to interpret character motive and mood sounds crazy. 

To a composer, it’s not crazy at all.

Some people think claiming viewers are wildly misinterpreting the main character arc in a popular show thanks to an institutionalized ideological system which asserts that heterosexuality is the norm sounds crazy. 

To a gender studies academic, it’s not crazy at all.


There are many, many roles involved in putting together a show or film. Roles filled by educated, experienced individuals all collaborating to tell a story. Subtext and lighting and set design, all of it – there are teams of people dedicated to this stuff. Don’t believe me? Do your research! ;)

That’s why I cringe when I read comments about “over-analyzation” and “reading too much into it” and “tortured metaphors” and “delusional.” Not because I’m offended, but because the commenter is oblivious to how ignorant they sound. (Not you, Anon!) 

Frankly, this is also why I cringe when I read things like “stop making arguments based on a ship that isn’t even canon!” or “it’s not canon yet, you’re just seeing what you want to see!” Well…false.

There are nine episodes of canon. A canonical romance does not magically appear from nothing when two pairs of lips touch. Canon is foundation. Canon is structure. Canon is building towards something. The writers and all of the cast and crew have given us nine episodes of canon. Good storytelling is about much more than The End.

I’m absolutely not saying all the metas (including my own) are hitting the nail on the head every single time – theories are theories. But I, and a lot of meta writers, are basing our observations on facts. 

To end on a positive note, here’s where I confess something bordering on blasphemy: I love hiatus. I really do. As excited as I am to find out what happens next, I love having all this time to absorb and digest these few episodes, to pick them apart and discover new connections, to speculate on what’s to come. And I appreciate that this extra-long wait is the reason this show is so high-quality. Sure, it’d be great if we got three more episodes this coming January. But would they be as good when written, filmed, and edited under such a rush? We all joke about how hiatus is torture, but I think it’s one of the most fun parts of being a fan of this show.

Hell, maybe I really am just crazy after all. 

sohelpmemegod  asked:

>calls other ppl narutards >runs a blog specifically for ppl still, months later, anal bleeding over the ending of naruto

Look bae! If you’re offended because of that reply I made about the true reaction about the Naruto fandom( because it’s the truth) then that’s your problem. Also..

Narutard (Noun): An individual who claims that an anime series called Naruto is a series with little to no flaws despite any problems with the series itself.

In a sentence: There’s a lot of Narutards within the comment section of Sawyer7mage’s, ForneverWorld’s and Double4anime’s videos.

Antonym: Rational, intelligent,

Synonym: SSheeples,(HWS) Hinata Wank Squad members, bottom feeders, etc.

With this in mind I guess it’s common knowledge that this word doesn’t apply to me. I run a blog for people who are rational, and intelligent so If you had ACTUALLY checked out my blog then you’d realize that you’re wrong about your statement. Not only that, I also re-blog other things like Final Fantasy, Kingdom Hearts, events within America:ie (pro-feminism, Ferguson) comedy and other anime as well.(because there are better anime out there than Naruto. Surprised..??)  

What’s more surprising to me is that 3 months later there are still people who actually believe that the ending of Naruto was actually good, be it that nearly all of them who believe so are SSheeples and the INFAMOUS HINATA WANK SQUAD members. Anyone who possesses 10% of a brain-cell can tell that the ending of Naruto was inconsistent, rushed, contradictory and represents full-on contempt for anyone who followed this series from start to finish except for those self-inserts who wore SS and NH shipping goggles for a majority of the time and don’t even get me started on the LAST Scarf abomination movie. It was HORRID end-of-story. This movie only made the ending much worse. Combine that with the horrendous interview from Kishimoto himself( red-herrings, cupids, Sakura being a terrible woman if she gave up on Sasuke and much more) and a future cash-in Bolt–movie and the end result comes to this.

                     -Kishimoto sold out on his own story-

And if you and the majority of the NH and SS fan-base (Not all of them because some of them actually hate the ending and the LAST, I respect those guys) fail to comprehend this then that’s your business. Enjoy your lackluster ending and cash-in movie . Good for you. Maybe when you all graduate from elementary school you’ll come to realize that there are better manga/anime out there with authors who actually care about their own story and characters enough to give them the praise that they actually deserve. But either way, one truth remains. The ending was bad. Have a nice day…

heyo guys. so I thought I would make a follow forever to kind of…. say a thank you in a way. for a lot of different, personal reasons and I just want to show my gratitude, ya feel me? these bloggers are the best, I care for them all on a very, very deep level and I wish nothing but the best for them and I have so much love for them that I even cannot comprehend how much feels I have for them specifically. (bold are my favourites, italics are for those I adore)

my posse (a.k.a. those who never fail to make me smile and those i consider good friends ok)

alaynes ○ dicpic ○ edardstark ○ harrypotyles ○ heisironman ○ heronvashkov ○ hhagrid ○ hylxs ○ ihawthorne ○ khaleesie ○ leaderclemont ○ littlemissmargaery ○ malisandre ○ mochingjay ○ patricksjane ○ ssharmans ○ sethscohen ○ valyrria ○ winterawaken ○ wyress

my special little daisies (a.k.a. the ones who make my dash an amazing place)

a-f: ahlohomora ○ amysatiago ○ andlumos ○ armyoalbus ○ arrybaratheon ○ aryastarkc ○ aryestark ○  avxs ○ barathion ○ benjenstark ○  bransstark ○ buckbeakisback ○ capitolsavox ○ chriscolfher ○ cinnasownmockingjay ○ courahale ○ darklordt ○ deadalbus ○ don-juan-cherry-tempo ○  dracomalfoyx ○  effetrinket ○ enjolarse ○ ennobaria ○ evangelicaled ○ everlarc ○  finncki ○ frostingpeetaswounds

g-o: goldensnitch ○ greglestrades ○ greatsherlock ○ grizzlysbear ○ queengranger ○  hanniebal ○ hippogrif ○ h0me-f0r-fall ○  hstyles ○  imodair ○ j4kobi ○  jaimemoriartys ○ jmemoriarty ○ lady-cresta ○  lestade ○ lestranqe ○ lilyehvans ○ lordvoidemort ○ lovedgood ○  lunaticlydia ○ lupinns ○ lyannahstark ○ lydiamarlin ○ maisileedonner ○ malphoys ○ melark ○ money-pooping-platypus-bear ○ morgensternsring ○   narcissamalfoys ○  narsissasmalfoy ○ nearlyheadlessfinnick ○  niarnh ○ nightinglock ○ nightloq ○  nymreia ○ odairbear ○ odious ○ ofpotterandwho ○ oharya ○ ohhmoony

p-z:  peacefolly ○ peggycarters ○ philsmuse ○ pondderful ○ potentpotions ○  primfection ○ primonfires ○ shacklebot ○ sherbot ○ silenabeauregards ○ sirepotter ○ sowedbothbefree ○ the-guy-nextdoor ○ thegirlincendio ○ thestagpatronus ○  tomfleton ○ tomridled ○ trerezi ○ voldevolts ○ werewolfposey ○ wheazley ○ why-fred ○ ziptao

p.s. check out my blogroll for the rest xo

3 Months Ago I Predicted This Would Happen.

And for 3 months I’ve been praying I’d be wrong.

Human beings only ever seem to truly learn from experience, and as such, all those #bernieorbust people failed to comprehend the weight of their apathy in the overall outcome of this election. Today, we see every swing state where Hillary lost have all those missing votes stacked on the third parties. We see all these people who decided to make a statement, ironically an anonymous statement, in protest of the system. And it was those petty, insignificant protests, that provoked a very significant, very detrimental conclusion to this nightmare.

I already hear a couple cheers for Trump. “He’s going to lower taxes.” “Haha fuck Hillary.” White people cheering for their champion. The man to champion their privilege and to give them more than they already have, while taking from those who have nothing. And you know? That’s not what bothers me most at this point. We’ve known Trump to be a racist, a misogynist, a xenophobe, homophobe, and overall nightmare of a human being. His tyrannical policies are old news, and while still immensely terrifying, we’ve become accustomed to hearing about his fucking wall and bans by now.

Electing him, however, yields a problem, that I believe, is harsher still. His policies are not sure to pass. His ideas are not set in stone to become reality. But what is true right now is that every sexist, racist, homophobic bigot in the country now has someone to look up to. The country elected a bigot as its leader, and I can guarantee this will very, very noticeably increase the amount of hatred in the country. Every bit of strife made by the Black Lives Matter movement, by feminist movements, by gay rights activists. Every painstaking, harsh, impossible step forward from the black, latinx, disabled, gay, transgender, female communities is about to be met with an onslaught of set backs. All that progress will be pushed back because every person who was a closeted racist, sexist, etc. will now have every bit of confidence to meet minorities with hatred.

The country asked the populace what it needed. Hillary may not have offered prosperity, but she offered stability. Clinton offered a strong back to those great strives. She offered a small step forward until the nest strong democratic government could do the final push. Trump offered a free time machine ticket back in time to 50 years ago. The country asked its people what they believed and the people answered White Lives Matter.

I am an immigrant. I am Mexican. I do not fear Trump’s wall for I am here legally. I do not fear his policies on immigration and ideologies based on xenophobia because I was lucky and privileged enough to have come into the country with a moderately wealthy family. I do not fear Trump. Not personally. I fear the side effects of his presidency. I fear that police brutality against minority groups becomes more commonplace. I fear that white supremacists will finally get the push they need to fuck me up for the color of my skin. I fear that slurs will become more and more prevalent until walking on the street becomes a nightmare.

I really, really hope that this website far overestimated the effects of a Trump presidency. I hope we are all overreacting and he turns out to be only a dumb, useless, forgettable president. But fuck am I afraid of it all being true.

Three months ago I predicted this very thing would happen, for the exact reasons it happened today. My heart and hope goes out to all my queer, POC, female, trans brothers and sisters. To my Mexican people whose families will be torn apart. I’m sorry this country failed you.

anonymous asked:

What's your opinion on this failzeroth thing? I've been hoping you would say something about it.

I imagine peoples’ dashboards are taken up with plenty of opinions on it already, and I don’t know why mine would be any more poignant.

I’m not sure if this ask is intended to be some sort of bait or if you genuinely want to know what I think. I’m very open and honest about the fact that I used to post on Warcraft Sues (and profile mocking was, in fact, how I discovered WoW RP in the first place– I somehow discovered a site that dissected profiles and learned about the RSP addon and community, and immediately went to roll a character on the server that seemed to have the most people with the addon).

What I can say about Failzeroth is only this: I understand the mentality behind it, because I had it too. I would be lying if I said I didn’t still get a private chuckle with my friends over 18-year-old Grand Marshal half-dragons with vampirism and cat ears that type like Tommy Wiseau coming down from anesthesia. It’s natural to laugh at objectively bad things. But what I failed to comprehend back then is that, unlike widely-distributed media that involves several people (be it bad writing like Divergent or bad film like The Last Airbender), roleplayers are in it for their own enjoyment and have no goal of recognition beyond those who share their niche interests. They don’t want criticism because they’re not looking to appeal to anybody, and if they ask the question, “Why does nobody want to RP with me?” then it’s fine to bring up (to their face, not on a private venue) that their concept isn’t very believable for the setting.

Warcraft (and all MMOs) are a very different sort of community from other venues such as forums, mostly in that there isn’t really a solid community

A common excuse used by people like this is that RP is a cooperative effort and everyone must operate on the same page and follow the same rules for it to work. On a forum? This is true. You don’t want to have someone with a character boasting Jedi powers and radical ‘90s slang show up in your thread about pirates in the 1750s. As a moderator, you set those limits. But Warcraft isn’t moderated, nor is it contained. You’re not going to interact with every player on your server no matter how frequently you RP. You and that San’layn Princess across the Bazaar have nothing to do with one another and have no impact on each others’ stories unless you both make the decision to change that. It’s okay to decline RP and hold a set of standards. I’ve walked away from plenty of things that I decided I didn’t want in my character’s story.

Basically, RP became a lot more fun for me when it dawned on me that these goofy concepts had no impact on me or my character whatsoever. They’re off doing their thing, I’m off doing mine. I stick to the lore to my best ability (with the occasional bending or filling in of blanks where they exist), they look at it with a kaleidoscope and put down what they saw. Okay. One guy off in the corner playing as a time traveler from modern-day earth doesn’t actually change the lore. One impossible halfbreed sitting at the inn table and not even talking to me doesn’t change my character’s life.

A lot of the people who do this are in their late 20′s, 30′s, and even boast various educational degrees or decades of RP experience or have children of their own. I can only hope they quickly realize that more often than not they aren’t criticizing the work of a peer, but the hobby of a child. 

So there’s my opinion on Failzeroth. If you’d like me to make it a little more personal and a lot less broad: I’ve seen the screenshots of the posts, and they all strike me as laughably immature, not even bothering to make comedy of their finds a la MST– just petty, snide, pointless cruelty that benefits nobody beyond vague reinforcements among themselves that they’re “the cool kids” and buttpats for “finding a gem”.

You know what’s more fun than constantly being on the look-out for bad profiles and getting needlessly indignant about something that doesn’t affect you? Not giving a shit and just RPing.

i want different, i need more. i crave what isn’t easy to find but that’s what makes the journey worth it. anything worth having comes with a certain level of difficulty. anything worth searching for isn’t easily seen or viewed by the masses. show me who you are, the parts in which are often seen or rarely appreciated by those who fail to comprehend your value.
—  r.h. Sin
Modern Heroics and the Tragedy of the Beauty Movement

I grew up with a grandmother with facial paralysis due to an advanced brain tumor a few years prior to my birth. She had had surgery that caused the left side of her face to droop, her eye to lose function and subsequently be sown shut to avoid visual disorientation as her ocular muscles attempted with futility to fight gravity.

She always made jokes and referred to her appearance in a light-hearted way, and I think that most of the time she didn’t mind looking different than others. We called her Granny Weirdo (by her request) and growing up, her appearance couldn’t matter less. She was witty and quick, hilarious and wild, unafraid of racy commentary or swear words. She was a woman with strong opinions and a loud voice.. She had no enemies, and made a habit of befriending and flirting with strangers at the grocery store. She seemed to have more confidence than a Hollywood actress and she often told my sister and I that she was “more beautiful even than Marilyn Monroe”.

No one could make her doubt herself. 

There were times, however, when I saw her raw female heart revealed as she would explain why she never looked in bathroom mirrors. She used the bathroom swiftly, washing her hands at the vanity without ever looking up. She preferred to check her appearance with the tiny compact powder mirror as she did her makeup in the morning. This ritual allowed herself to only look at the side of her face that wasn’t paralyzed. The “normal” side.

“I don’t look in mirrors", she would say, “It makes me feel bad.” 

In those moments, my heart broke and I yearned to show my sweet Grandma how truly beautiful she was; how beautiful I saw her. How beautiful God saw her. But in those moments, my whispers of assurance could do nothing to soften the ache in her heart. She believed in those moments that she held no earthly beauty, and therefore, no earthly value. It was tortuous to watch, but thankfully, it never lasted long. She’d bounce back after a while, make a Marilyn Monroe joke and find a cute retired sailor or marine to flirt with and successfully make him smile.

But I will never forget her yearning for beauty.

My husband Michael is incredible. So loving and kind, so tender and sweet. He fully encapsulates the word “gentleman”. He open doors for me always,  swoons when I wear a new outfit for the first time, and is constantly telling me how lovely he thinks I am. There have been times in our relationship that, he has, with his whole and entirely sincere heart, articulated how beautiful he thinks I am. And yet, even in those moments, there have been times when I do not believe him. 

Not because he doesn’t mean it. Not even because it isn’t true. I don’t believe him, because in those moments I don’t believe Him. 

In those moments, I don’t believe that God made me perfectly the way He wanted. Spots and all, Jesus ferociously desires for me to feel His love and bathe in His beauty. The same beauty that He has covered over me by the power of His blood when He died for me. Jesus knows that I will search for security in my husband, in his thoughts and desires for me, and He knows that those longings will fail. He wants me to be completely and utterly, hyper-sensitively aware of His love for me; the most beautiful thing in the universe. His love! Oh that we could even begin to comprehend that the gem of all Creation, that His love covers us with earth-shatteringly blinding beauty. 

Beauty is a part of our world because it gives us a glimpse of Him; a glimpse of the One who is so beautiful, that to look upon Him for even a moment with our human eyes would render us dead. We literally would die because our bodies would not be able to physically handle the beauty. Our physical selves would implode at what we would behold. 

I long for, appreciate, look for, and admire beauty. It is written into the fabric of my soul, because I was created by the Author of Creation; the head of all things beautiful. I am in no way diminishing the desire for beauty or articulating that said desire is a bad thing. We were created for and to be beautiful. I love beauty! 

But, in order to understand beauty as it was intended, it is important to understand a very simple and yet simultaneously profound truth; beauty itself does not save.

Beauty cannot save. 

I understand why women post photos of themselves. I’ve done it, I’ll do it again. I’m married to a photographer, for crying out loud! I am not condemning or even sternly cautioning women to stop posting photos of themselves all together. I think as a woman, it is important to feel beautiful and be acknowledged as such. Sometimes, social media can offer an encouraging bit of affirmation when you get a new dress, cut your hair off or go on vacation and give your Seattle skin some sun-kissed bliss. Especially when the encouragement comes from other women. 

There is something so delightful about telling another woman how beautiful they are, knowing how sweet it is to your own soul to hear those very words. It is nice to be admired by lovelies whom you admire yourself. They say women dress for women, and I would make the same argument about posting photos of oneself. Women like to receive compliments from women because, quite simply, we know what it’s like. We know the daily battles, the slithering lies and the pesky insecurities. We are, in each other’s eyes, qualified to compliment. I’m not against that. I promise I’m not. 

However, I would caution any woman, sister or friend, to be careful to check your intentions before posting that photo. Do you desire to receive love and affirmation from Facebook friends and/or Instagram followers by way of receiving compliments and gaining the knowledge that you are wanted? If this is the case, sweet friend, you will be sadly disappointed. The likes will come in, the comments will flood your feed, and in a matter of hours, your photo will be forgotten. And you will be just as empty. It can be a bitter cycle, and I would never want any woman to experience that.

All those things being said; I’d like to address an alarming and disturbing trend I’m finding amongst social media today. Let’s refer to it as the Beauty Movement.

I’ve been watching silently, a stifling combination of pain, sorrow, and anger swelling in my heart like a disease; people desperately trying to “reclaim” or “redefine” or “restore” beauty. True beauty, is what they call it. Women, and many men, are finding it necessary to post photos on their social media outlets that supposedly express what it means to be truly beautiful. So often, this “true beauty” is articulated with a pretty quotation by a deceased icon, accompanied with a photo of themselves seductively gazing into or away from the camera, a full body shot of their barely clothed selves,  suggestive position or a well lit pair of legs. I scan over photo after photo and I find myself wondering, “Since when did this become “true beauty?” Since when did this become empowering?” 

It is here that I would like to transition my discussion points towards the men who are out to apparently “help” redefine and empower the women who feel like they have no worth in or concerning the supposed Beauty Movement.

This is where I get hardcore. Some of you might be offended, and for those of you who are, I’m sorry. But I will stand behind these statements stubbornly and without falter.

Female beauty isn’t defined/restored/reclaimed by men who claim they see beauty in everyone, then proceed to photograph only scantily clad, thin white girls and post them for the world to see, with an apparent, "See how beautiful EVERY WOMAN is?!”. This, my friends, is not a redefinition of beauty, this is exploitation, and very specific exploitation at that.

To these men, I would ask you these questions:

Who are you to have decided that your estimation of beauty is the final authority and who gave you that power? 

You think it’s courageous to prey upon young, insecure women, take a photo of her nearly naked, tell her she’s beautiful and then post her image to your credit and claim yourself to be a movement hero? 

You think you have any idea what it means to be a woman who yearns for beauty? 

You think your temporary words of visual delight in her will satiate her aching soul?

You think by exploiting her, you are effectively moving her towards empowerment? 

You are not a hero. You are a coward. 

It is easy to take a photo of a beautiful woman. It is easy to take a photo of a woman you find attractive and revel in your so-called “talent”. It is difficult to take a photo of a woman you don’t actually find attractive, or who doesn’t fit your particular measurement or lack-of-diversity preferences and actually make the photo soar. 

Beauty comes when any woman realizes their worth is in Jesus, their beauty is found in Him and that their conformity need not be to any worldly standards, but to the “standards” that He places in their souls; the standards that allow themselves to be loved in the manner that they are. The reception of His love is the standard. The reception of that TRUTH; THAT is beauty.

So, sweet sisters, remember this: No man can articulate the beauty you were created to emulate. Only the Father can.

I’m tired of seeing cowards claiming to be heroes on social media. 

I’m tired of the Beauty Movement. 

all photos by michael giroux