painted-words

a list of measurable goals

it’s important to be able to track your progress toward your goals! here are a few ideas for goals that can be quantified:

  • wake up at 6
  • go to bed at 9
  • eat a vegetable with every meal
  • maintain a duolingo streak
  • clean once a week
  • take medication/vitamins every day 
  • read a book a month
  • limit time spent on social media to 2 hours daily
  • save 10% of every paycheck
  • work out every weekend
  • get an a in a class
  • wash face morning and night
  • visit a museum monthly
  • complete a painting every week
  • write 500 words a day
  • use journal daily
  • drink a cup of water during each class

these are just a few ideas, and you can always adjust the time frame :-)! go forth and achieve!

small summer self-care tips from one mentally ill person to another, based on ur hogwarts house

slytherin:

  • more books if you can, video games that are happy if you can’t.
  • find one project you love and chase it doggedly, even if it’s fanfiction. ideally, work on this project w/other friends that are working on projects, so u have accountability and community. 
  • set small goals and crush them, even if they’re managing to get rid of the Depression Water that’s been sitting on the side of your bed for three weeks with a dead moth in it
  • snack breaks 
  • whenever you hear yourself call yourself bad names, whisper “shut up, salasar,” and fix it. call yourself the most ridiculously pretentious and complementary titles you can think of
  • every time ur brain tries to kill you, tell it you will succeed out of spite
  • acrylic nails, regardless of your gender. sometimes they are 50 cents at the drug store. click click click

gryffindor:

  • don’t get caught up in the wildness of summer, try to take a few steps back from friends when stuff starts getting dangerous. write down “we are about to do X” and decide if it’s something your mom would be okay with.
  • blanket cape + make urself a paper crown
  • for every liquor drink please drink 1 glass water. friendship hydration challenges are also a lot of fun, but as a warning, i will win them
  • roller coasters will make u feel awake for a bit and that’s fun but friendships shouldn’t make u feel like you’re trapped on one
  • courage is your crest. remind yourself of that when ur facing your demons. also, dye your hair a fun color.
  • you’re not too much for someone to handle just because you’re energetic or whatever. this summer relish in not toning it down. take your meds with water and bite anyone who makes fun of you for them.
  • give urself time to recharge. know your limits. sometimes courage is also saying “no thanks”

hufflepuff:

  • the sun isn’t out all the time. you don’t have to always be the cheery one. if you fall, your friends will catch you. keep yourself around your loved ones. they’ll forgive you, even if you’ve been gone.
  • cooking and baking for other people is actually so much fun, try and eat a little while you get it done
  • watch children’s movies and shows. it’s okay. take a little while and let yourself feel like you’re seven and the world isn’t as loud as it is.
  • dark scary makeup and instagram photos
  • be patient with yourself. okay you’re not getting better right now but that’s okay. the slope is very slippery. it’s a long climb to the top, but you got badger claws. start with washing your hair. you’ll get there.
  • when they are only hurting you, they do not deserve your loyalty. it hurts to say goodbye, but it will be better when they leave.
  • hard work does include dragging yourself into the shower after six days without it, good job, you

ravenclaw:

  • find something to be curious in every day, keep that mind working. it helps to slowly teach yourself something, even the anatomy of a bird wing.
  • you aren’t bad if you can’t focus. neither can i and i’ve been a ravenclaw all my life. 
  • it isn’t about being “smart” and you don’t need to fit some neurotypical version of that to be clever; wit comes in all forms and if you chase something unconventional at least you’re chasing something
  • tuna and rice is a good meal with a low price and v low production abilities. turn on TedED while it’s cooking and zone out to something vaguely educational. at least you’re learning?
  • you aren’t and you’ll never be only good at things because of your disease. if someone says you paint beautifully because you’re sad, paint them eating their words. also, peaceful coloring.
  • bird mouth from pringles chips. caw caw
  • go outside. catch breeze, draw leaves, eat fruit, discover small happy.
To all writer pals

Don’t get discouraged if sometimes the ideas in your mind don’t come out the way you want them to. You’re doing great, bud, and it’s pretty fabulous how you paint pictures with your words, even if your mountains look a little more like hills! Keep on going, you’re doing great my dude.

In which I get a wife in my first session of a campaign

Context: So I made a new character for this campaign, and she is a very punchy fighter by the name of Mae Gjallarfjall. And her trouble is “Punch first, ask questions later.” I joined one or two sessions late, so I have no context for this campaign other than “Magitech is a thing that exists and can do things.” I am a crewhand on a ship traveling across the sea.

DM: All of you hear the crashing of wood as a cannonball tears through a bit of your ship’s hull. You then hear the captain yell “PIRATES OFF THE PORT BOW!” What do you do?

Me (OOC): I run over to the captain and tell him to get me in punching distance.

DM (as captain): Wait what?

Me: Get. Me. In. Punching. Distance!

Wizard: *grabs me by the shoulder* Hold on. *rolls Magic to teleport*

DM to me and Wizard: You two end up on top of the pirate ship’s mast, a good sixty feet above the deck. The ship is also flying above the water. Below you see six pirates that do not seem to know you are here. What do?

Me (OOC): Well, my trouble is “Punch first, ask questions later,” so I’m going to roll Fitness to sprint down the mast and activate Fist of Havoc.

DM: Alright, roll.

Me: *rolls +2 on Fitness and 18 damage on Fist of Havoc*

DM: You kill two of the pirates instantly and send the other four back a ways staring at you in shock and fear.

Me (OOC): I want to roll Persuasion to convince them that fighting me is a terrible idea.

DM: Um… okay, roll for it.

Me: *rolls +2 on Persuasion*

DM: You succeed on two of the pirates. Pirates 1 and 2 sheathe their weapons and take a step back. Pirates 3 and 4 are not convinced.

Everyone else takes their turns.

DM to me: Alright, so Pirate 3 has been smacked by [Paladin], and Pirate 4 tried to attack but accidentally lost grip on his sword and is floundering to pick it up. The pirate captain has come up from her quarters and yells “What the hell is going on on my ship‽”

Me (OOC): I run over to her and punch her right in the face. *rolls +3 to hit and another +3 for damage*

DM: Wow. So you run over and deck her right in the schnoz and she staggers back a bit. In retaliation, she shoots you. *rolls +2 and deals 3 points of damage after armor*

Me: Bitch!

Engineer: *busts out from under the ship and yells* “ABANDON SHIP OR BURN IN HELL!”

Me (OOC): *rolls neutral on Fitness and jumps overboard, rolls again for Hero Landing™ and gets +2* Wait, where’s pirate captain lady?

DM: That’s a good question. *rolls dice* She says goodbye to her crew and ship and jumps overboard.

Me (OOC): I roll Initiative to see where she’ll land, and Fitness to catch her.

DM: Go for it?

Me: *rolls +1 Initiative and crit Fitness*

DM: Holy shit, give yourself a fate chip and let me paint you this word picture. [Engineer] sprints out from the engine room and yells to get off. Both of you dive off and land on your ship. [Paladin] jumps off and lands on his horse, and then Pirate Lady jumps off after you guys. You look up and hold out your arms and catch her bridal style so comfortably that she swoons and blushes profusely at you.

Me: I apologize if your fall from heaven hurt. *rolls persuasion and gets +3*

DM: She is so overcome by her emotions that she is now profusely in love with you and wants to marry you.

Me (OOC): I say yes and marry my new pirate bride.

I want to write about you– the man who makes my heart skip effortlessly. I want to let you know that writing this is not easy because writing means telling everything and telling everything means I will be transparent to you; you will able to see my soul through the words I’m about to utter.

I will write this because you deserve to be painted through words– I will let the world know how wonderful you are in my eyes and I will make you wonderful in their eyes. You thought you are not enough and you thought no one appreciates you, but for me, you are enough. You are more than enough. From the way you talk, the way you make me laugh, through the way you put a mini heart attack whenever you summon my name. Out of billions of people in the world and hundreds of people I know, you’re one of the few people who really cared about me and I thank you for that. You told me once that I deserve to be loved and to be happy, maybe I really do, because the way you told me that my mess is beautiful, I thought about that maybe, just maybe there’s always beauty in every particular things in the world including my mess. It was hard to see myself that way but whenever I think of the words you said, I feel like I need to believe you. And I will always be thankful that I’ve met you– and if ever one day you will leave me, the memory of you will be one of the best things that happened in my life.

—  L., this is for you
I’m tired of being sad and having no clue as to why I am this way, so I’ll write about the happy bits of me and why I smile. I dance when I’m alone, when the music gets just right and I’m sure that no one is watching, it’s okay to feel lonely, I used to not like the idea of it, but once you’re comfortable in your own skin even depression starts to feel like a breeze. I’m reading a book that says we are the beliefs and thoughts that we think and believe in. So if I say that I’m happy a thousand times, one of those will come back as true. So if I say I’ll find the love of my life some day, some day she’ll appear in front of me while I’m writing another poem. It’s good to have goals, the only goal I’ve ever had up until recently was to keep myself happy with someone else, that’s not a goal, but an illusion. You can’t live your life for someone else, it’s called your life for a reason. Happiness must happen when I say so, so I’m saying so. We bring into this world the kind of kindness that we’ve been dealt, so when I fake a smile, my mother is omnipresent. Although it’s not real, fake it until you make it, right? The book also says, spend more time doing things that make you lose track of time, so I decided to write again and more often than not, to not compare myself to others because once you start doing that, there’s no going back. I don’t write like someone else, I write like myself. I don’t think like anyone that I know, there’s just you and the beautifully twisted world, we’re all trying to find redemption inside of coral skies and trustworthy friends. I would break my own hand to contain my anger, it is contained. Happiness is what we make it, so if I say that it exists, then it will be so. Listening to your guidance, that makes me happy. You know who you are. Breathless to the words, you paint the sunrise with your pinky and promise that as long as I’m here today, tomorrow will not be filled with sorrow. I keep writing letters to the future person that I will be, I wonder if I’ll change. I probably will, we all do in one way or another. I’m the kind of person that snaps a picture of the sky while I’m driving, I’m reckless, but we’re still alive. Life’s too short and I need to be more careful, I’m certain that death has given up a few passes for me. Do you ever feel like you’re running out of time? Like there’s something trying to make a statement, a lost word that even google couldn’t even get its hands on. Do you ever feel like no one’s really listening? We’re all selfish in the end, but the ones that truly listen– they are the ones that I live for. I maintain online friendships better than I do with my siblings, I guess our thinking is just on different frequencies. On the topic of frequencies– the you that you would like to be is out there, you just need to listen. Hear the right words said by the right person and you’ll be in the right spot to be the you that you’d want to be in this life. Do you ever feel like you’re not good enough? Remember that thing I said about thoughts? Sometimes we just need to let go a little bit, embrace the art of it. To be left to the wind, the unknown will bring us to more adventures and you may not be loved by many, but there’s a chance that you will be– why not take it? I would like to break out of this, I want to smile more and to laugh a little louder, I just want to make myself proud of who I will be versus who I used to be. And you can’t turn back the hands of time, you cannot change your mistakes– they are permanent, but you are not. There is a fire inside of your chest and if you keep suffocating yourself with an indescribable pain then you’ll only suffer in a incomprehensible way. I just want to fill this world with more love and less pain, I see a butterfly and I’m easily distracted– how beauty will fly past you if you’re not even paying attention because you’re so damn sad all of the time. So I drop all signs of negativity and lean towards the positive, I am the only vibe that’ll alter my moods, so I must feel more wealthy than a million silver spoons even if I don’t have any, so I must create the art that likes to spill from my fingertips, we live such short lives– why not be the best version of yourself? Who will you be if tomorrow was your last day on this planet? Will you cry because it’s over? Or will you search the ends of the earth until you’ve found the fountain of youth? I’ve got a secret to share with you. You can be a 100 years old and still have the sweetest smile, you can be in your 20s and have a soul heavy enough to sink the titanic, life is strange, life is strange. We live our youth to buy pretty things, but live our oak days trying to make up more time– it waits for no one, the wrong turn will break you, a simple kiss will turn your thoughts into poetry and a life of self-hate is a road that needs constant validation– why not be your own way out? Be your own lover, be your own brand of music, be your own kind of poem, be your own story of kindness, and if you’re not perfect just look around– nobody is. I’m tired of dreaming, I want to build it instead. You can’t be who you want to be if you’re still having the same thoughts from last year– you can’t change or heal in the right way if you’re not willing to break a few pieces of your heart because the clutter inside of our minds often match the attitude that we give off. So like a quote, so like a poem, so like a bedtime story. If I repeat it enough times, I’ll be happy. I just want to be happy. I just want to let go of the bad feelings. I just want to love myself enough to see a brighter day. You can’t change the world if you can’t even change yourself, right? If I repeat it enough times, then it must be real. I will be happy. Sadness is a crucial emotion because without it, being delighted and euphoric wouldn’t be so dense, but that’s the beauty of the intensity to which we should love ourselves. I want to be so fucking glad to wake up today that it’ll just drown my depression into the white noise. I want to glow in the dark and live like the jellyfishes, give my poetry the immortality to always bring a smile onto the faces of those that love who I am even if I’m a bit flawed because at the end of the day– you’re the only one sleeping on your bed, you’re the only one who’s going to determine if you’ve got enough room to breathe, you’re the only one to have the last say if you’re art or not.
—  I wanted to write something happy for you–
yes, you. The person that’s reading this.

a hc list of keith painting his nails that no one asked for

  • when he was young he asked shiro why some people have cool coloured nails
  • shiro: some people are born with them like that
    keith: aw man why didn’t i get a cool colour i want red
    shiro, choking back laughter: ….  dam thats unfortunate,
  • keith just sloppily colours in his nails with sharpies
  • he later then learns that shiro is full of shit and that people paint their nails with nail polish
  • (which shiro starts doing for him when he’s like 9)
  • broganes nail painting party is lit
  • the first time keith tried (key word: tried) painting them himself he got more of it on his hands than his actual nails
  • having painted nails helps temporarily kick his habit of chewing them
  • and once it starts chipping he starts picking at it until it all comes off so he can repaint them
  • shiro: u know theres such thing as nail polish remover right
    keith: no nail polish remover we pick it off and die like men-
  • he looks bomb as fuk
Raising Princess Leia was probably all kinds of crazy adventures sometimes

“You can’t make me look!” The five year old princess stomped her foot. “He’ll steal my face!”

“Sweetheart, it’s just a painting,” Bail tried not to cringe in front of the Imperial officer. “It’s not going to steal your face, I promise.”

“Your daughter has a problem with our Emperor, Viceroy?” There was an icy undertone in the officer’s voice that warned that a misstep here could prove costly.

“It’s not the Emperor,” Queen Breha gave the man a winning smile and smoothed Leia’s hair. “She’s skittish around portraits in general.”

“The eyes follow me! They’re gonna stick me in a frame too!” Leia protested, understanding even at her age that it was better to play up her childish side.

Breha thought that the Imperial still looked unconvinced, and so with a silent apology to her daughter she added, “She’s also convinced that she has a little brother who was stolen by goblins. We’re still not certain where she picked up that idea.”

The officer nodded with thinly veiled disgust. “Perhaps you should take more care to monitor who your daughter spends time with, Queen Breha.” The pompous man turned on his heel and stalked away to terrorize someone else in the gallery.

The Organas breathed a collective sigh of relief and Bail swept Leia up into his arms.
“Well done, my Leia,” he whispered. “But from now on, you must be careful what you say about the emperor when there are people about.”

Leia tugged at the braiding on his sleeve and frowned. “It’s still ugly, Papa. It’s not a good painting.”

Bail struggled for words. “It’s…an Impressionist piece, I think.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means that the artist was under the impression that it looked good,” Breha said dryly. Bail stifled a snort, but did not comment to the contrary.

Bidding perfunctory farewells to the host, the Queen and Viceroy slipped out, making excuses of an overtired kindergartener. Mon Mothma had been able to slip a data chip into Bail’s hand in passing and he had no intention of sticking around to be caught with it. As they met with their bodyguards and strapped themselves into the transport, Leia piped up again.

“Goblins are real though. And they do steal babies.”

She took the twitch on her father’s face as evidence that she was right and that the grown-ups just didn’t want to admit it.

This couple is being charged $100 a day for the racist graffiti someone left on their home

  • On Jan. 14, the Stamford, Connecticut, home of Heather Lindsay and her husband Lexene Charles was defaced with racist graffiti — someone had spray-painted the word “n***er” across their garage door. 
  • Now, the couple is being fined $100 by the city — because they refuse to clean off the slur until the authorities “do their job,” as Lindsay told the Stamford Advocate on Monday.
  • After they found the slur on their metal garage door in January, Lindsay and Charles reported the graffiti to Stamford police. But the department told the Advocate they have no witnesses to the incident and that no security cameras in the neighborhood recorded it.
  • Ted Jankowski, Stamford’s director of public safety, told the Advocate police offered to remove the slur — but Lindsay and Charles said not to.
  • She told the Advocate she wants Stamford police to find the person, or people, responsible — and “not just cover it up and sweep it under the table as they have done in the past.”
  • But now, because of the couple’s refusal to remove the slur from their garage door, Lindsay and Charles have been issued a blight citation from the city — which comes with a fine of $100 a day. Read more (2/22/17 11:09 AM)

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Benedict touching/using his lips appreciation gif set <3

Benedict Cumberbatch as Vincent Van Gogh in “Van Gogh: Painted with words”

anonymous asked:

When You Need A Prompt: Planets think about love

MERCURY. Don’t worry if it feels like you
could go up in flames. To move inches
from the light is always a risk, but look
at that star, burning gold, reaching out
through chaos and silence to touch you.

VENUS. You don’t have to sing along with
everyone else’s orbital path. You are a
guiding glow in the dawn. Dance with
brightness and love will come running,
swifter than tides to shore and twice
as full, a thousand times more tender.

EARTH. Yes, love lives here. Say it again.
Love, the blackbird with a beak full of honeycomb. Love, the painting of a moon-
lit cathedral. Love, how his words paint
such a sweetness in you that you soar.
All of this, here, alive and sun-kissed.

MARS. It’s okay to blush bright red. You’ve
seen his shadows and he’s seen your dust
storms. Laugh with him, not like the battle
was victorious but like there was never any
battle in the first place. Speak unarmored.

JUPITER. What’s love if not unmistakable,
so large only a sky could contain it. He
takes your hands in his and the gravity of it
makes every moon ache with want.

SATURN. Hold him close, closer than soil
holds wheat, closer than wedding bands
hold shine, closer than clouds hold clouds.

URANUS. When you lie on your side next
to him at night, does the frost just outside
your windows feel far away? Does night
glisten with how perfectly slow it moves?
Is his smile its own small heaven?

NEPTUNE. Love has been here since the
beginning, even when no one else saw it.
And love will be here with its swirling blue
mouth long after we ourselves become
unseen. What you make with each other
is a freshwater spring blooming in a forest,
crisp and glittering in the light. Go on. Drink.

I want to write about you– the man who makes my heart skip effortlessly. I want to let you know that writing this is not easy because writing means telling everything and telling everything means I will be transparent to you; you will able to see my soul through the words I’m about to utter.

I will write this because you deserve to be painted through words– I will let the world know how wonderful you are in my eyes and I will make you wonderful in their eyes. You thought you are not enough and you thought no one appreciates you, but for me, you are enough. You are more than enough. From the way you talk, the way you make me laugh, through the way you put a mini heart attack whenever you summon my name. Out of billions of people in the world and hundreds of people I know, you’re one of the few people who really cared about me and I thank you for that. You told me once that I deserve to be loved and to be happy, maybe I really do, because the way you told me that my mess is beautiful, I thought about that maybe, just maybe there’s always beauty in every particular things in the world including my mess. It was hard to see myself that way but whenever I think of the words you said, I feel like I need to believe you. And I will always be thankful that I’ve met you– and if ever one day you will leave me, the memory of you will be one of the best things that happened in my life.

People who don’t draw or paint will never understand how much you pour yourself into each piece you do and how they all contain little pieces of you… how you were feeling, who you loved, what inspired you, what you wanted most in the world… they’ll never understand what’s in your piece except for the basic aesthetic value.

Vincent van Gough was known to drink yellow paint because he believed it would lift his spirits, he physically inhaled toxins to cure his depression. I do similar, except my yellow paint isn’t yellow paint, it’s his words that he whispers into my mouth, his eyes that I can get lost in for hours, and his face, oh his face. I just can’t get enough.