I watch your tired face, and that weary smile you give me and I can’t seem to think of how much you mean to me and how much I adore you. I can’t function without your hugs, your texts and your voice. And it scares me. But I’ve been taught to embrace my fears and overcome them, and so I look away, silently promising to myself for the millionth time, that I will never be scared of giving you your importance because no matter how hard you try, you could never ignore the sun in the daytime and you are my sun. I look back at you, and my heart swells up with gratitude, and all I can say is, “Let’s get you home. ”
—  S.g // 29.07.2016
Possible Episode Description For Insecta Trifecta

Take this with a grain of salt but this could be the episode description for  Insecta Trifecta.

“The team faces Stockman-Fly’s new insect minions, and Raph has to man up to overcome his fear of insects and lead the team.”

It was posted on the Turtlepedia site with no source, but yesterday the Broken Foot episode description was also posted on Turtlepedia a day before it was up on Zap2it. 


It could be real but please take it with a grain of salt.

4х16: Broken Foot - August 21, 2016
When Leonardo secretly allies with Karai, he finds himself in deeper danger than he ever could have imagined!

4х17: The Insecta Trifecta - August 28, 2016
The team faces Stockman-Fly’s new insect minions, and Raph has to man up to overcome his fear of insects and lead the team!

hi im back for like, five seconds because im low key worried about where this is going considering that city at war’s title already reminds me ( && others: ie; @swornxbyxthexsword ) of the city fall arc in idw. the third episode of the return solidify’s this because raph has to lead the team.

but for what reason? how &&/or why does he have to do this —- sure it’ll likely be more plot development because raph will have to “ overcome “ his fear long enough to like, make sure the team doesn’t fucking die but ???

what happened to leo && does it have to do with this new witch character

@shealwaysreads said something about Stiles in chaps, and…

Stiles in chaps, you say? Ranch hand Stiles who rides horses and maybe gives riding lessons? Derek who comes to Stiles’ family ranch (maybe to assess it to make an offer to buy them out, because maybe the Hale’s have a big ranch and are looking to expand and get rid of the competition? Idk, anyway…) Derek comes and sees Stiles and just… The chaps frame his ass so perfectly, and he has to get his hands on it- er, investigate further.

So he takes a lesson, and has to pretend he doesn’t know how to ride? (Or maybe he’s legit afraid of horses because he got thrown as a kid and has decided to overcome his fear? Again, idk, the point is cowboy Sterek au)

And if you’re talking assless chaps? That sounds like stripper Stiles who loves the freedom of dancing, but longs for an actual stage, and maybe Derek is a talent scout/wealthy dude who sees Stiles and vows to get him on a real stage/through a performing arts college, w/e…

Damnit, Is, I do not need more ideas! And now I want to write literally all of these…

Me time! (personal rant)

Throughout my life, I’ve been accustomed to going out being with someone. Not necessarily a significant other, but more of a friend, or a family member. I was someone who was scared to even ask a simple question to the retail workers to help me get what I was looking for. But recently, I have been going out alone. Although the thought of strolling alone may be nerve wracking, somehow I managed to overcome my irrational fear of being independent. 

Though it may seem contrary to the famous saying, “No man is an island,” I believe that there are some times when it is actually enjoyable to be alone. To be honest, I felt really lonely going by myself, yet it made me feel a sense of relief in the long run. Then again, I may sound too much of an introvert, (and I admit I really am) but I never really understood the pleasures of being alone knowing that I haven’t had one of those “me times”.

It was scary, indeed. was. At least now, I can finally say that I’m independent. (to a certain degree he he) 

Fuck Your Comfort Zone

Yeah, I said it.

FUCK your comfort zone. It does not deserve to exist. Annihilate that mothereffer.

All throughout your life, it’s always been the one thing that stands between who you are, and who you want to become. Every time an opportunity has come up to step out into uncharted territory, to do something that would fulfill your soul, it’s been the invisible hand that squeezes the back of your neck and pulls you back at the very last moment.

The power it holds over us is immense. It can stop us from trying out for something we want. It can make us stand up against the wall at the party instead of shuffling in the middle of a giant circle of people. It can prevent us from telling that stranger in the coffee shop that we want to know their name, and what they’re like. Though it’s invisible, the power it has over us is undeniably real.

But here’s the great thing about having an invisible foe: It’s like the bad guy from The Matrix. He’s all in your head. He does not physically exist in reality. And once you understand that, you can learn how to destroy him.

It’s important to understand that when it comes to overcoming fears, you can choose to live your life in one of two ways:

Either you control them, or they control you.

No matter what fear it is, the willingness to stare it in the face and take action without batting an eye will create a major detour in your life. It will take you off-road; away from the dreaded little cookie-cutter-box-store life that others have tried to squeeze you into, and into the wild and rugged terrain that you’ve always yearned to explore. The rules of the universe begin to bend differently for you, and a radiant and silent power begins building up inside where there was once only a sickening overflow of timidness and regret.

The key: Take baby steps. Achieve small victories.

Make a list of everything that you’ve always wanted to do, but you’ve always let fear hold you back from doing. And one by one, starting with the smallest, do them.

Perhaps you’ve wanted to share your views about something edgy, but are terrified of posting it on the internet to be judged and chewed up by the entire world; who will gather outside of your house and yell on megaphones about how incompetent and worthless your opinions are. Your boss will read it and fire you, your significant other will dump you, and your family will give you up for adoption. You will be an ex-communicated wandering leper, scrounging alone through the deserts, looking for a cactus that hasn’t read your blog yet in order to ask it for a drink of water to survive another day.

Scary, isn’t it?

I remember doing my first creative writing several years ago, on a piece of paper that I kept in my wallet. I was terrified to show anyone. It was a mini-inspirational speech that I would read to myself whenever I felt like giving up in calculus III. One night in college, half-delirious from pulling an all-nighter with a friend, I felt comfortable enough to show it to him. And guess what happened?


I was blown away. I showed a few other friends, and they all told me I should be an inspirational writer or speaker. At the time, I shrugged it off, thinking they were just being polite, and went back to studying the dull principles of civil engineering.

Back then, I never believed that one day I’d have the courage to say things online in front of millions of people that most wouldn’t even discuss with someone until they’ve dated for at least six months.

When I was a kid, I was very quiet and shy. I hated speaking on the phone, and would just give people one word answers. Hi. Good. No. Okay. Bye.

Breaking out of the shell is a process. If you’re scared to take even a small step, find an even smaller one. Post something anonymously, so that it’s not even like people are judging you. Practice your speech in front of two friends before you do it for 20.

Every time there’s something I know I probably should do, but I’m afraid of it, I push myself to do it. I still remember the first time I went up to a stage at a conference in front of 300 people — it was one of the scariest things I’ve ever done. It was scarier than when I jumped out of an airplane. But when it was over, I felt like a different person. Another time, I got on stage at a club and danced in front of 1,000 people as part of a hot body contest. The whole time I thought:

Who the hell are you, and what have you done with the quiet little boy who used to live here?

The best part: After I did that, a friend of mine who was out of shape joined the competition — with six pack abs we drew on with a black sharpie marker. AND HE WON. And it was one of the funniest and greatest things ever.

After something like that, the fear knob gets turned down in every other part of life. You think to yourself: If I can jump out of an airplane at 10,000 feet, if I can dance in front of 1,000 people, if I can move thousands of miles away to a city where I don’t know anyone, after quitting my job without something else lined up — why on earth would I be afraid to write a measly blog post on the internet from behind a computer?

Tell me what scares you in the comments. And tell me what you’re going to do about it.

If you enjoyed this article, imagine what would happen if someone were to extend it to 200+ pages, then make it slightly more awesome. This new book represents over six years’ worth of my life experiences, insights, and ideas on creating a better way of living for all of us: 

It’s All My Fault: How I Messed Up the World, and Why I Need Your Help to Fix It

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“We’re not afraid of the terrorists,” says Salimata Sylla.

The 40-year-old government worker, wearing purple shorts and a big smile, is visiting the historic Atlantic Ocean town of Grand Bassam, a UN World Heritage site. The seaside resort in Ivory Coast was, on March 13, the target of al-Qaida gunmen who attacked the Etoile du Sud and other hotels and the beachfront with bullets and grenades. They killed at least 19 Ivorians and foreigners.

A week later, Sylla went to the beach with her two boys, Hassane Coulibaly, almost 7, his younger brother, Kader, who’s 2, and their 14-year-old sister, Myriam, along with other family members. She wanted to make a point: “We’re not afraid of those terrorists and won’t stay locked up at home,” she says. “Jamais, never, never, never afraid. Non. No, no, never afraid.”

A Day At The Beach Is A Way Of Saying ‘We’re Not Afraid’ Of Terrorists

Photo: Ofeibea Quist-Arcton/NPR
Caption: Salimata Sylla, a mother of three, visits Grand Bassam with her family to show she’s not afraid of terrorists.

Part of being a member of the climber’s burrow is overcoming your fears, and of course spending as much time as possible in Buttermilk country. Southwest Arete, a beautiful and intimidating line in Bishop, CA, is one of the tallest boulders you can climb at somewhere around 40’ tall. I’m so psyched to say that my fellow members pushed me to climb it this weekend! The grade is V0, but the height is enough to scare off some of the most talented climbers. I highly recommend hopping on this climb next time you’re in Bishop.

Side Note: This photo comes from here.


Non-binary. Xe/xyr/xem.

On this Trans Day of Visibility, I want to celebrate my hair. And not being hesitant anymore.

I used to chop my hair short for a lot of reasons. Convenience was DEFINITELY a factor. Annoyance was, too (there is nothing worse than the middle stage of growing out one’s hair from a pixie cut to ponytail length). But, I’d be lying if I didn’t say that one of the major motivating factors was a desperate desire for a visually perceived androgyny that I would never achieve. I couldn’t really articulate why I wanted that androgyny, because I didn’t even know the term ‘non-binary,’ much less how perfectly it fitted me.

In all my years of short hair and curve-minimizing (or plain hiding) clothes, I was mistaken for a man twice. Once, from the back. Once by a small child. And I treasured those moments because they confirmed that someone, somewhere saw what I wanted them to see: a me that wasn’t automatically a girl.

This went on for years. But, every so often, I would decide to grow my hair out because there is no better feeling than hair softly brushing my back. It is one of my greatest pleasures and it should not feel like an indulgence to be able to do what I wish with my own body. But, it was never long before I would chop off my hair again, because the weight of being more easily perceived as a woman every time I left my private room would outweigh the pleasure of feeling my hair against my back. And the cycle would begin anew.

Every time that time came to grow out my hair, I would hesitate. And hesitate. And hesitate until I could. not. handle it anymore. I would hesitate because I knew what growing out my hair would mean. “You look so pretty.” “You should keep your hair long - it looks much more feminine.” “You’re so beautiful.” “What a lovely young lady you are.” The constant encouragement to be female, the gendered compliments (which are kindly meant, I know). I would hesitate because I didn’t want to be perceived as a girl, but I also wanted this sensation I so loved.

But, about two and a half years ago, my (then future) sister-in-law was playing with my hair and told me I should grow it out so she could braid it. (I’m still waiting, dear. ;) ) I love the feeling of my hair being braided (so long as the person gains permission first - my head is a NO.TOUCH.ZONE normally). And I had been wanting to grow out my hair again. So, I did (about four months later). You can see, in reverse chronological order, my gorgeous, handsome hair that I truly love and FINALLY gave myself permission not just to grow out, but to indulge in. Those colors would NEVER have happened otherwise. It’s been a delightful two years.

And yes, there was some hesitation. Just like there’s always some hesitation to call myself trans. Do I have the right to that label? Do I want to claim a label that immediately others me in the eyes of so many? Do I belong there? And just like, after I finally decided that yes I am trans and I wasn’t going to let anyone - much less myself - tell me I didn’t have the right to that label, there was hesitation to be publicly trans. It’s all fear-based hesitation. It’s all being afraid to be myself and afraid that my definition of being trans (or being trans, period) won’t be acceptable to someone. It’s all being afraid of being something I’m not in the eyes of others and wishing that it wasn’t so.

But this is me. I am happier being publicly non-binary than I ever was when I let people assume I was a girl. And I am really happy having long hair (for now). It’s a true pleasure to be me, without hesitating.