it's a stupid thing to be angry about

anonymous asked:

i don't get why people get so angry about editing last day?? i didn't even know that was a thing, like most of time i dont have any time other than for planning and i have to use the last day to finish. it just seems.. frankly really stupid to hate someone and call them names for that? :| i get being frustrated especially if you worked really hard on your form, but other people are entitled to finish their posts whenever they want as long as its within the deadline?? chill out y'all. (post asap)

I feel bad for being so angry at my dad, because it’s not like this is unexpected or anything, and the move would be really good for his career, I just DON’T WANNA GO.

I should probably start with the fact that this is not me condoning So’s actions, it’s just my reasoning as to why I haven’t jumped aboard the anti-So bandwagon just yet.

I keep going back to that goddamn stupid kiss and it’s probably driving everyone, including myself, crazy.

I get why people are angry, but there is one thing that keeps bugging me about this entire situation, and that is So himself.

Its not a typical “dead parents” or “childhood neglect” tragic past for a kdrama lead. Its a literal issue of a lifetime of abuse. Its having your face cut up by your parents who then throw you aside for being disfigured, it’s being held almost captive away from your family, being left to die at the hands of wolves, starved in a cage and beaten by a deranged woman who occasionally confuses you for her dead son. It’s trying to open up to your brothers but instead being completely humiliated and it’s that small shred of hope that maybe your mother could accept you, when in reality she simply wants you as a weapon, because to her you’re nothing more than a beast.

And I just can’t wrap my head around why everyone seems to think that a victim of abuse to the extent that So went through, should be 100% emotionally stable? 

Anyone would’ve gone mad. But he held himself together.

Catfish makes me physically angry now. I can’t believe there are so many stupid people out there. And its THOSE stupid people who make the general public have a negative opinion about online/long distance relationships.

Like seriously? In a ‘relationship’ for 4 ½ years and have seen ONE picture of her and she refuses to Skype?! How idiotic can you be. Of course they’re not going to be honest when they’re acting that sketchy. All of those things are huge red flags… 

I just really dislike the show. They totally have an opportunity to help deserving online couples meet but instead they help these low-life liars. UGH. Rant over :p

youtube

I’m With You – Avril Lavigne, 2002
I thought that you’d be here by now.

This never grew the way “Complicated” did. “Complicated” split its head on the roof as it shattered toward the sky and its seeds fell everywhere, breaking into song. Instead, “I’m With You” swelled sideways and very slowly out came a river of daisies and morning musk, things that smelled of adulthood but could be written about vaguely and easily. There’s nothing but the rain, no footsteps on the ground. I’m listening but there’s no sound.

The most touching parts of Let Go come when Avril allows herself to sound plaintive, or angry, or stupid and does so without fear. It’s a very particular voice and nearly impossible to affect. This was what its critics mainly took issue with, calling her voice strong but her words weak, but Let Go would have sounded strange and meaningless fed through the throat of a grown-up. The fears and thoughts of grown-ups are not the same as the fears and thoughts of children: they grow and turn into thicker branches, they are sturdier in the wind. Children are seized by weird frenzies of fixation. Everything terrifies them or sends them into raptures. It’s hard to remember these moments once they are gone but they do reappear sometimes, crinkling our grown-up carpets, spiking our grown-up tea. We are a plank’s length from hysteria at any given moment: not in danger yet, but near enough.

The best parts of Let Go — the cleverest, the funniest, the most moving — come when Avril struggles to conjecture a future with a seriousness equal to her present. She treats the story she is living with the solemnity of a monk transcribing verses, running her fingers over every Canadian sunset she’s ever seen, every thought she’s ever had. If it feels silly to write about Avril Lavigne in this way — and it does — it’s because we usually talk about our younger selves dismissively; we’re embarrassed by it all, by how much or how little we did and how much more we felt. If it feels silly to say that “I’m With You” is a future imagined by a child trying on the dreams and slang of adulthood like she’s putting on her mother’s shoes — and it does — it’s because songs like “I’m With You” are meant to be remembered, not lived.

Avril Lavigne is not in love with a boy in the world of Let Go. She is approaching the thought of what love might be but it is not yet as vivid as everything else she knows, which is her shitty job and these loser guys she sometimes dates because she thinks it’ll be fun and her friends who make her laugh and the tendril-like boredom of the small town where she lives which could inspire novels or lethargy in someone else but not her, because in her it inspires things like revulsion and despair and the soaring hope of “I’m With You” which is not the strongest song on the album but, with the exception of “Naked”, probably the most earnest, soaked in images of small town life that are as barren and shockingly lonely as the first inklings of personhood that overtake us at night. It is a love song, but to a future that seems impossible because it hasn’t happened yet. One of the great unifiers of life is that everyone, to some degree, believes they are alone. As we get older, we fundamentally understand that this is both true and not; we are alone in our experiences because of who we are but we are together in our aloneness, in the lovely shared belief that we are alone. A kid has no grasp on this duality. Nor should they because in many ways their aloneness is not comparable to ours: the space between them and adults is too wide for anyone to cross with anything other than the rusted bridge of memory and they spend their days among like-bodied creatures who are wicked and feral and thoughtful and who fling themselves willingly into chaos.

“I’m With You” is a beautiful song. It’s sung by a teenage girl, which means it’s like a thorn in the tongue to write the word beautiful but it is, it’s like a car ride along the beach at night with your best friends, which is a very young adult novel thing to write but it’s important not to discredit images like that, to understand that there are many kinds of car rides contained in that phrase and many different nights. It’s a monstrously tender song (and no one likes to be alone, she finishes the verse, filling it with those many nights and rides) and it is layered with a confusion that the song seeks to comfort but never quite does. Childhood feels like a held breath, a readying. Avril imagines what comes next, calls it home, a place. Sung softer, put away in a delicate drawer, it could have been a crooner, all falsetto and gentle despair, but Avril is many things and quiet is not one of them, and she turns damn cold night into a long wounded howl. That’s what people liked, I think: its unabashed muchness. How when she runs out of words, she screams over and over, yeah yeah yeah, to hear the way her voice grows, just to prove that she’s here. The Avril scream: yeah, I felt it all. The sound and silence of waiting, of preparing, of believing that life is not a thing presently occurring but soon to come, that it will come in a form that is not school or deceitful friends you can’t stop loving or the repetition of your days, to fear this and feel that you are losing who you are, whoever that may be, whoever that will turn out to be. To fervently want that life. Don’t know who you are, but I.

anonymous asked:

I hope this is not a stupid question but I keep wondering why Olivia was caressing Fitz's hand when they were holding Ella? Wasn't she angry at him for leaving her alone? He was pretty cruel to her at Verna's funeral. Thanks. Trang.

Trang! Thanks for identifying yourself :o)

So, you’re referencing this post from the other day:

It’s not a stupid question. As with most things Olitz, it’s simple, but also complicated. Before the baptism, Olivia was already convinced that Fitz knew about Defiance, and that that was the reason for his cruel behavior in the church (213). Remember, she spent 10 months thinking about this, and the swimming we see her do partly reflects this. So by the time she comes face to face with him, she is still interested in his understanding, and forgiveness. Look at the apologetic looks she gives him as they hold baby Ella. I see the Douxbebe finger stroke as her way of reminding him of the commitment he made to her. It’s not until Fitz’s cruel and obfuscating post closetgate “erections” comment that Olivia feels abandoned by him. Her anger has reason to become entrenched. 

What’s interesting is that the stroke with the DB finger is a form of communication for Olivia, much in the same way that putting DB back on her finger for Fitz to see at Cyrus’ third wedding was her Olive branch to Fitz after 413 (not the act, but the showing and the setting). After initiating that contact in 214, Fitz didn’t bite, though he did stare. When Liv gave up and tried to run away, Fitz decided then that he wanted to be heard (what have I said about Fitz’s pull to Olivia’s push in the past?), it was his only chance. They had no cause to speak before this event. Note that it is in a communications closet that they finally…communicate. 

People try to make closetgate a reductive moment of victimization by call it rape (patently untrue), abuse, harassment. I think it’s a very sad, but complicated (and yes, arousing) moment for them at a very painful point in their relationship. They had too many contradictory feelings they were unable to healthily uncork. Yet missing one another over those ten months was the one thing they could not deny, and that’s what fueled their connection. It’s not a didactic moment. It’s an uncomfortable, emotionally fraught one. It didn’t feel pretty, and it didn’t look it either. But it was truthful and a real bottom for them.