living my life through other people

Put my mental health first.
Do not be quick to judge.
Be kind.
Meet new people. It opens new doors.
Try looking at things through other people’s perspectives.
Always find a way to connect with somebody, even if you two are total opposites.
Family First. Always.
Be there for people who are there for you.
Help your friends in times of need.
Be the first to smile.
Don’t make a living. Make a L I F E.
Stick to the things I like. Be 100% honest with myself.

Goals for 2017:
Discover. Learn. Grow.

—  shespeakz10-20 things I learned in 2016

Bones - 12x12 The End In The End
Memories shared by the cast while filming the series finale
Story by: Stephen Nathan
Written by: Michael Peterson, Jonathan Collier, Karine Rosenthal
Directed by: David Boreanaz

When I look back on these past twelve seasons, the thing I will remember most is all of you. Our cast and crew has been professional, dedicated, hard-working, but, most importantly, kind. No matter where our lives take us from here, we have shared something very special together. And I am so grateful for that.” - Emily Deschanel

I just love all the people up here. They respect you, they believe in you. They support each other. And it’s such a great environment to be a part of. I was blessed to meet these people. They’ve got me through lots of stuff in my life. […] We went to war when we started this, and we’re gonna come out with the flag high. […] And I love them all.” - David Boreanaz

i spend a lot of time daydreaming about my other lives

about the me who lives out in the middle of the new england countryside, where i’m quite lonely, but i have a couple goats and cows and chickens that i look after, and i like to make jam and i have an enormous huge crush on my beautiful neighbor who trades me her honey, and i invite her over for tea a little too often to not be super obvious

the me who was born and raised in new york city, who’s sharper and angrier, yet still so kind, with a fire in her eyes and shards in her words, who lives in a awful gross 2 bedroom apartment with 4 other people and loves the people in her life fiercely and is obscene about her art and smokes too much and doesn’t sleep enough, ever, 

the me who went on a backpacking trip through europe after graduation with a desperate need to escape but it was a lot harsher than she thought but she fell in love halfway through france and lives in a tiny city with the love of her life and doesn’t talk to anyone she used to know; she still calls her mother sometimes, but no one knows where she is and she has never felt so free (she is still working on her french)

the me who is on the road to her first oscar, who manages to dodge out of all the gossip rags, who gets to do beautiful work in a city that she hates but she endures and she is not sure if this is what she wanted but it’s what she has so maybe she’ll run with it for now 

the me who lives in a tiny studio somewhere in stockholm, a me who paints and draws her nights away and spends her mornings kneading bread and folding dough for hours and hours and she never wears makeup and the city is both so busy and so quiet and she works as an english tour guide on the weekends at the palace (her swedish is almost perfect, though)

and the me here, with a loud head and a messy kitchen and a giant heart who spends too much time thinking about all the things she is not instead of focusing on the wonder of what she is

i love drama that doesn’t involve me because i’m nosy and like keeping my life drama free but at the same time i love drama so i snoop it out through other people it’s a great way to live in my honest onion

LET’S TALK ABOUT LOVE. It’s Valentine’s day and #TransformationTuesday after all.
I had tried losing weight for love three times before. First for a teenage crush, second for a wedding and third for a love of my daughters. I’d get to a point and no further. My motivations were all based on others.
I started this time with a newfound love: a love of self and a belief that I deserved to live my greatest life. And while my 225 pounds weight loss only took me a little over a year, the journey has not stopped. Through plateaus and setbacks, I persevered. Through the loss of friends and my marriage, I did not give up. Through muscle soreness and mental exhaustion, I did not relent. While my cup ran over with excuses, I refused to drink.
I committed to myself and the people I love that as long as I lived, I would be a man of integrity and strength. I believe I have a responsibility to myself and them to be and do and become my very best self.
Settle in my friends. This party is just getting started.


Ok I usually stay quiet, but I really want to touch on this subject. Iris told Barry and Wally that she wants to prove her life matters. If she’s leaving this world then by god she will leave her mark. The thing is, we know she matters. She matters to us. 

There are very few women characters in a superhero genre that I have seen this well written (in terms of DC and live-actions). I love some of the other women on the show like Caitlin and Linda, but Iris… Iris is alive on the screen. She can be forgiving and she can be angry. She can hate people for lying to her and keeping secrets. She can keep her own secrets. She can love and be loved. She can be funny and sarcastic. She can be overwhelmed. She can cry. She is human. You know how much I love just listening to her talk? No matter what is going on in my life, chances are Iris has gone through it and beaten it. She is someone to look up to. 

Personally, she has inspired me in more ways than one, particularly with my self-esteem. I’ve said this before I’m sure, but I’m white. I also am on the heavier side and have been since I was a kid. So most of my life I wore things that hid my body. I was ashamed, ya know? I didn’t feel worthy of letting people see me so I hid behind jeans and loose t-shirts and jackets. Anything that covered me up. Seeing Iris the last 2 ½ years has helped me so much. Like look at this woman:

Originally posted by westallenftw

Originally posted by wayneskent

Originally posted by lovingmccall

Originally posted by lovingmccall

Originally posted by barryirisallens

Originally posted by peggdaniels

Originally posted by idontknowwhatimdoingdamn

Originally posted by barryirisallens

Originally posted by barryirisallens

Like she holds herself with so much power and strength that no matter what she’s wearing, it works. And Candice Patton is a GORGEOUS woman. I mean stunning. If she has helped me get over a lifetime of body issues then I can’t imagine what she’s done for other people. For other girls, in particular women of color. I was lucky growing up, I know that, to have lots of pretty white actresses to look up to. But Candice Patton as Iris West teaches confidence rather than beauty.

That is the mark that Iris has made. She made it day 1 on this show. No matter what happens, Iris Ann West has made her mark. She does matter. 

Advice from Librarians

…should be more of a thing. Or maybe I just like telling people how to live their lives. HARD TO SAY.

A high school senior came in today and had a long talk with one of the other librarians about not knowing what she wants to do with her life.

I wanted (but didn’t interrupt) to say that the best advice I ever got is not to decide what I want to do with my life, but to decide what I want to do FIRST.

Most people go through a major career change four or five times in their lives because none of us are equipped to make one big decision that affects us for decades.

I taught English first. It was terrible. I’m a children’s librarian now. It’s fantastic. But I’m not going to spend the next thirty years doing it. What’s next? Maybe something else in my field. Maybe politics. Maybe law school. Maybe award-winning, bestselling novelist. Maybe telemarketer. 

Maybe all of those things and a dozen more. 

When people meet love with hatred, when they spew fear, vitriol and ugliness in the face of joy, I try to take a deep breath and remember that it comes from fear. Fear causes hatred of anything that anyone can deem “the other.” I have found, through a life of curiously, travel, and constant question-asking, that the “others” I have encountered have only ever brought me joy, enriched my life, and filled my soul. The next time you start to squash someone else’s happiness, freedoms, or lives, take a breath. Ask a question. Learn about them. Remember that under the colors of our skin, our sexual orientations, our first languages, or our countries of origin, we are all human beings with DNA, beating hearts, wishes and dreams. Stop. Ask. Learn. Love. It’s the only real answer. It’s all that matters. Only love. Equality matters. Love is love.”


  1. expanding (my body, my presence, my voice)
  2. trying to grow in front of the people who have known and loved you all your life
  3. answering the question “what do you do” with “i am a writer”
  4. letting go of other people’s ideas of me
  5. remembering how to say “poet” in my mother tongue
  6. finding peace in living in this body
  7. also: realising this body can do more than it can’t (e.g. be a vehicle for you to go places)
  8. shedding a life’s worth of internalised racism
  9. being proud of how far i’ve come
  10. being honest in who i want to be
  11. breaking tradition and honouring it at the same time
  12. navigating through time and spaces without rushing it
  13. finding place 
  14. being taken as an adult when you’ve been seen as a child for most of your life
  15. being proud of the poetry i write
  16. dancing freely
  17. seeing uncertainty as something to discover instead of something to fear
  18. showing people i know my poetry 
  19. finding validity in my existence
  20. finding validity in the things i do that don’t immediate to monetary gains 
  21. acknowledging hurt, joy, sadness, anger, contentment, etc. for what they are: cycles of fleetingness 
  22. unloving 

I think one thing that really sets ace attorney (and GT, but i wanna talk about AA right now) apart is how low the stakes are- and how much that show’s Phoenix’s inherent kindness. Now, let me clarify. I know the stakes in ace attorney are high. ESPECIALLY in cases where Maya or Edgeworth or Athena’s lives are on the line. But even in smaller cases where you defend random people, the stakes feel really high. And this is so different from other games of the genre. In other logic puzzle based games, the protagonist is usually either saving a whole town (professor Layton and the unwound future) or them self/their love interest (999). But in most of ace attorney, you are fighting to save random people. The stakes feel through the roof- and I think one of the clearest points of this is in Farewell my turnabout. Yes, Farewell my turnabout has Maya’s life on the line. but so is Adrian’s. the final choice you make, guilty or not guilty, is a choice between Maya and Adrian. in a lot of puzzle games, or regular games (looking at u 999) the choice would b obvious. But in farewell my turnabout the choice is painful to the point of feeling impossible.of all the people I’ve asked, I got about a 50/50 ratio of people who chose guilty ot people who chose not guilty. Even though one is an NPC making their first appreance, and one of your beloved companion for 2 games. But this choice is framed in the game as if neither choice is right. You have to decide wether you want to place the life of a completel stranger of Maya- but not only that, a lot of people do. becuase Ace Attorney is about helping the underdog. Ace Attorney is about being kind- about, despite his snark, Phoenix is an inherently kind character (and this makes his fall from glory so much more defeating) Ace attorney is about kindness- not just about Justice, or about thwarting evil, but about helping those who need it. I think Phoenix himself says is best in Bridge to the turnabout

“It’s only natural for living creatures to fight to protect their own lives. But what makes us human is that we fight for others. “

If the sun has good aspects from other planets, it is a good indication that you can stand on our own, be self-confident and maintain yourself against pressure from others. Difficult aspects to the sun usually indicate major psychological problems, which will have a profound effect upon your life. But keep in mind that people usually achieve greatness through dealing with these difficult patterns in their lives rather than because of the easier aspects alone.
—  Robert Hand

anonymous asked:

How is your drawing more important than people's identities and coping mechanisms? They're not claiming your shit by putting a simple tag there, you need to step back and your lack of education on this subject is seriously impeccable

mmmmyes my unimportant art. The craft I have poured my life into, the thing that is shaped by every living experience I have had, the characters and stories that help me fight through the fugue of my most brainweird days. The thing I have a very personal attachment to (since, yknow, it came from me), and have preferences for how others interact with it. Much less important than someone’s impulse to tag a reblog as ‘kin’

The Forgotten Part 1

Genre: Werewolf au!, angst, fluff, smut

Word Count: 1K

Notes: I based this off one of my non-fanfic stories, so basically I rearranged a LOT of things to make this make sense just a little bit. If you want to read the normal story, I’ll be happy to give you a link to wattpad or whatever.

Originally posted by exoticmaknae

I was one of the forgotten. Nobody saw my struggles. No one saw the chaos I saw through my young eyes. But then again, no one bothered to look within the depths of the shadows. That’s where I lived my conflicted life-darkness.

People thought of me as the devil’s spawn, yet they knew nothing of my world.  I was already deemed dumb and stupid. Basically, any word that was the opposite of intelligent meant me; even though, I was at the top of my class. Teachers didn’t bother to ask me to answer any questions (I was glad though), while students pushed me around to spy on others since I was the “wallflower”. Because of that, I met friends who soon became enemies. Rumors spread about me being a liar, a cheater, and a dunce.

“Why’d you tell Angelica I cheated on her? You little piece of-” My best friend bellowed.

“She hired me to do it! I didn’t want to!” I squeaked.

“Well then tell Angelica this while you’re snitching on people!”

I came out with two black eyes and a lost friend were my payments most days. I healed quickly but the pain of lonliness still lingered. Those were the days I sat in restroom crying for the help no one  seemed to acknowledge.

“Someone please help me!” I would cry.

Silence and even more silence echoed through the stalls, shrinking my shoulders into the rough floor. I called those the “Dreamless Days”, no dreams brightened my colorless nightmare. Life to me meant nothing more than the pit in my stomach. Life was death, and there was no escaping it. You’re probably wondering where my parents were through my turmoil. Dead- they were dead. I was an orphan, living and caring for myself until someone found out. I was completely and utterly alone in a dangerous world. My days went by three at a time, and my loneliness… years.

Life didn’t let up until ninth grade year.

It was the beginning of the freshman year, and everyone was buzzing with life about their summer vacation, except me who did nothing but pay bills and read.  Adults didn’t just have the hard life.

The teacher came in, and with a deep voice said, “Good morning class!” He was well-built and taller than any male in here.  The blonde hair on his forehead made him seem closer to my age than the other teachers.   The glasses set on his nose were of the intelligent kind and made their master seemed like minded.

There was mumbling of voices greeting him.

“All right, let’s introduce ourselves. I am Mr.Kim, your English teacher. What’s your name?” He said, pointing at me, sadly.

Quietly, I told him, “Y/N”

Mr. Kim raised his eyebrows, “I can’t hear you, sweetie.”

A touch louder, “ Y/N”

“Y/N who?”

I was miffed, “Y/N Y/L/N” He was getting on my nerves.

“Hmm, you just transferred here, Miss Y/N?”

“No, I’ve been here for Kindergarten through ninth,” I grumped, sucking on my teeth.

He  looked as if he wanted to ask me even more questions, but decided against it and went around the classroom, where dozens of students had puzzled looks upon their dull faces. I let out a sigh of relief.

Pretty much the rest of the day went and ended that way. Teachers actually asked me questions. My darkness was slowly crumbling, letting a little light into my world. But everything good does not stay forever, because as soon as I reached the hallway, the darkness crusted my half-empty heart.

“Hi!” Someone yelled behind me, causing me to jump.

I turned around to face a handsome guy who was in most of my classes.  His name was Kim Taehyung. Honestly, his very presence seemed to tear away at the darkness. Just a little bit. His chestnut brown hair went well with his caramel skin.  Dark eyes stared at me until I answered.  "Um…Hi!“ I stammered.

He  smiled at me, and looped arms as if we’ve been friends forever. “So what’s your name again?”

“Y/N,” I snapped, unlooping my arms. I took most of my classes with her, and she barely knows my name! “What do you want?”

“I’m sorry but I have  the worst memory ever!” he laughed. His  brown curls bounced as he laughed, distracting me a bit. Not only that, but his eyes lit up too.  He has a weird box smile that made him even more unique.

“It’s okay, I shouldn’t have snapped so easily,” I started to walk away so I could get home. I made it out the doors into the parking lot, only to be stopped again.

Taehyung wheezed out, “Let me…walk you home, please!”

No. “ Sure!”

He bounced on his heels, and looped arms again. My heart beat two pumps faster.

“Let’s go!”

It’s easy to forget your parents are dead. I go into the house everyday, calling out for them, only to find air. I forgot it that day when Taehyung and I were stopped by Mr. Kim.

“Miss Y/N and Mr. Kim, may I offer you two a ride?” He asked us.

“Sure… ” I replied. I could trust him, since he was my teacher to take me home right? We hopped into the car, and I told him my address. He tried to make simple conversation which I easily ignored, but Taehyung, on the other hand, talked nonstop about who knows what.

“…And then she told me he liked me, but was still going out with another guy, who happened to be my friend, so I shut him down and told my friend about it then he broke up with him…”

I rolled my eyes, and nodded along with the music Mr. Kim  was playing. He, too, had gotten tired of Taehyung’s blubbering. I just met him and I wanted to punch him in the face.

“…And three weeks later, he dated her again. Talk about forgive and forget…” He wailed in my ear, causing me to wince in pain.

After ten minutes of Taehyung’s constant wailing in my ear, we finally pulled into the driveway of my home.

“Are your parents here yet?” Mr. Kim asked me, looking through the rearview mirror.

‘Uh…no…they work late,“ Good enough excuse for dead parents.

“Well then let me walk you in to make sure everything is alright,” He told, and then got out of the car.

“Yay! Let’s go!”  Taehyung screamed happily.

I groaned. They couldn’t find out I lived alone.  I placed my key into the slot with shaky hands and unlocked the door. The house was darker except for the light of the sun when we opened the door.  I had cleaned the house yesterday, so there was nothing dirty except for a few dishes from breakfast.  

“Nice house! How do your parents keep it so clean? My house is always a dirty mess even after we clean it up. Mostly due to the fact that after I clean up I end up having to look for something I can’t find and mess my room over again. A constant cycle!” Taehyung rushed, not pausing for any breaths or punctuation.

I heard Mr.Kim mumble under his breath.

“So do you want anything to drink?” I asked, not that they were about to get anything anyway. They were , however, about to get out of here.

“Water will be fine,” Taehyung told me.

Mr. Kim ignored my question and asked me, “ When will your parents be arriving?”

“It varies from day to day sometimes they come home at nine or twelve o'clock!”  I immediately cried.

“Well then I will stay with you until they turn up,” He said, and then took off his suit jacket and shoes.

Taehyung cried, “I’m staying too! Let me call home”

“That won’t be necessary Taehyung! As a matter of fact, Mr. Kim, why don’t you take Taehyung home?” I panicked.

“He  can stay as long as he wants, ” He said. He kicked his legs up onto the table as if he was at home.

“Yay! Let me go!” He skipped off, but paused. “Where’s your phone?”
I told him, and I pulled out my books to do my homework. I only hoped they would leave.

“Do you live alone Y/N?” Mr.Kim  interrogated.

“Uh…n-n-no!” The pencil screeched to a halt at the sudden question

He looked at me questioningly, and shook his head. “Why are you lying?”


“So you are living alone!” He interrupted.

I couldn’t take it anymore, so I confessed.

“I’ve been living alone for the past 4 years in the darkness. My parents died in a car accident….” I told him the whole story, crying with each word. I had been keeping this in for too long; I was surprised at all of the tears had I left.

Meanwhile, Taehyung had came in for the second half, and, amazingly, had kept quiet.  Mr. Kim changed facial expressions from time to time. When I was done, I felt a weight lifted off of my shoulder.

“Why did you keep that a secret?” Taehyung whispered.

“I don’t know! My pride or dignity!”

“Don’t worry. I’m actually surprised you have kept this up for this long,” Mr.Kim said wide- eyed.


Taehyung and Mr. Kim nodded.

“Namjoon, can we keep her?” Taehyung asked Mr. Kim.

I looked back and forth between them. Keep me? “Wha-”

“A new pack member?” Pack member?

“What are you saying?”

“Y/N-pack you things.”

  • me: *listens to La Vie Boheme on the way to my 9-5 office job, trying to ignore the fact that i'm wasting my life and am in no way, shape, or form living la vie boheme because let's be real people need money and the only way to make money is to sell your soul and give up on your hopes and dreams and, even if the characters in your favourite musical are dedicated to la vie boheme no matter what, you are a real person who just wants to be able to afford groceries god dammit*

Whenever Trump gets discussed here, at least in my life, it’s done with an air of, “oh those silly Americans.”

And I’m in the UK, but this goes for a lot of countries - Trump is only one manifestation of a disease spreading through the Western world.

Hatecrimes against immigrants, refugees, people of colour, Muslims, LGBTQIA people and more are still happening at an alarming rate. Disabled people are living in squalor and facing violence of all stripes. Sexual and other violence against women is so commonplace as to be heartbreaking. Not just near wherever Trump is, but everywhere.

Trump cannot be an excuse for us non-Americans to pretend that everything is hunky-fucking-dory elsewhere.

Trump cannot be an excuse for us not to stand together against the fascism that turns us and others into targets.

Just because other prominent political figures - many of whom are actually already in power and I’m talking about YOU THERESA FUCKING MAY - are sneakier about their fascist leanings and couch their eugenicist ideas in fancier, politer language does not mean we can give them a pass.

Just because the spirit of Florida Man is manifesting itself in a steaming pile of wig-topped faeces we can all laugh at, doesn’t mean Trump is an isolated problem.

Things are getting worse. All over. And we need to make them better as best we can.

2016 is almost over, and even though i am drowning in revisions, i decided that thanking you all for this amazing year is more than worth it.

so much has happened in the space of 12 months, be it in here or in my life. i graduated, achieved one of my goals by entereing medical school and achieved another by meeting alycia debnam carey (and traveling for the first time on my own!). i made friends, lost some others, contacts intertwining and breaking away as i gradually tried to become a better version of myself everyday. i reached my first milestone on tumblr and met so many amazing people i can now be proud to call friends, no matter how far we live from one another, or how much different we all are.

i can definitely say that 2016 has been a pushing-limits year for me, and i laughed and cried all the same while going through whatever life had in stock for the little bean that i am.

so that’s for you, peeps. tumblr is far from being a safe haven for everyone, but you guys have contributed to make it feel like it is for me. i am not on holidays, but i wish you all a good one. love yourself and those around you, god knows how much love is needed right now.

everything is under the cut :

Keep reading


I love my friends and I miss my friends.
I miss them stealing my clothes every day, stinking up our bedrooms, talking about inappropriate things in hot tubs, making our own music videos, getting or own private villas just so we could swim naked, manifesting under the moon, being attacked by monkeys and being there for each other while we all went through the mud (metaphorical mud).

I’m so lucky to have such amazing people in my life and I just wish most of them didn’t live on the literal opposite side of Earth.

The latest drawing for my sketching spoonies project. The model, who has EDS, submitted this poem, Plaster, to accompany their pose:

People say if you have a chronic illness you are made of glass

like you’re born to shatter

but you’re not

I believe that we are made of plaster with cheesecloth woven through

pieces may crumble off here and there

your memory, your ability to do things

but you never shatter

you get up and you fight despite the pieces that are missing from your skin

you try your hardest to live a normal life

you make friends with other people with similar problems

and just like plaster when two pieces are bound they become stronger than they were before

so you stand by your fellow ill as life keeps chipping away pieces of your plaster coating

but you must never let it take it all the way

make use of the cheesecloth that is woven into your skin

let it act as a net to catch everything bad and to keep everything good inside

and yeah sometimes you’re going to want to cry

but maybe tears are good for your complexion

-Hannah Fisenne

Thank you again to all models who have submitted to this project and for everyone else who has spread the word and offered their general support! This project is still ongoing, so if you want to participate or just have questions, feel free to message me here or at the email address at the top of my blog.

Transformation Tuesday to the max!!!! 5 years ago I graduated high school today. Also 5 years ago today, I was constantly hiding behind a fake smile, body dysphoria & a pretty face all four years of high school…..well actually even middle school & through Catholic grade school as well & I can remember being so extremely envious/jealous of all the guys I was graduating with that day, the guys I had known for years & the fact that they were able to wear suits & ties or bow ties. I felt so forced to wear a dress & heels & to be all dolled up because of the group of friends I hung out with & the school I went to was so judgmental……just like any other high school as most people know. But today, I have no regrets of living 23 years of my life as Bailey, I never have had any regrets about that at all. Because I wouldn’t be the man I am today without Bailey to teach me everything I know & have learned. This is me, Bentley Aydian Garcia the most authentic I have been to not only myself, but to others as well, the utmost happiest I have ever been in my whole life. This is me, Bentley Aydian Garcia in a vest & bow tie 💙🙈😍👍🏽👱🏽💉 #transgender #selfmademan #transformationtuesday #purehappienes

So rn i am living at my parents home because I just moved back to my home state to get bearings on my life after a cruddy time alone in another one and I left my sketchbook out on the table and
My mom saw it and said “you shouldn’t leave your sketchbook out on the table it might upset your father”

First of all I’m 21 and have lived on my own for two years I can draw whatever I want

Second this is how internalized homophobia starts and I’m angry that I was so confused and terrified my whole life because anything gay was seen as a bad thing and I refrained from anything or seeing anyone because I was terrified of the consequences

Third you shouldn’t look through other people’s shit without permission. Period. If you don’t want to find something you don’t want to see, don’t go looking for it. Sketchbooks can be, especially mine, personal diaries.

Don’t look, everyone has stuff they want to hide or keep to themselves.
For me, that’s a lot of things, and it’s rarely ever happy.
Or straight.