it’s been like 7 months and I’m still bitter that somehow eleven had preconceived ideas of “pretty” but not friendship i’ll be on my deathbed and still bitter about this obvious male writer bullshit

Steve Aoki is the definition of how to treat fans right. I can’t count the amount of times people have called us crazy, obsessed, delusional, etc. Which in many cases resulted in hate. Which (for them) proved their point.

But Steve has been nothing but kind and respectful and understanding. He understand where we come from and that means a lot. And the result is amazing. Cause in return everyone loves and respects him. He didn’t come in with a preconceived idea about boybands and their fans. He was open and honest and respectful. The result is that everyone loves him. I am so grateful that Steve Aoki exists and I’m so grateful he has never judged us, but started embracing us from the start.

And the thing I’m most grateful for is how he has been an amazing friend to Louis. He literally canceled shows for Louis and that deserves a lot of respect.

I’m very interested in the idea of forgiveness, but I’m also very very leery of poetry that seeks clemency. Poetry that looks to exonerate the poet. I think the performance of contrition is endlessly fascinating, especially in a spiritual context, and mining the vernacular of that has been useful for me in my work. But I would never want to place the actual burden of forgiveness on a reader, to turn them into some kind of judge to lay my sins before and expect them to render a Not Guilty verdict. That kind of writing inevitably falls flat to me because the author already has a preconceived idea of what the reader’s response should be. I’m skeptical of shoulds in poetry.
—  Kaveh Akbar, interviewed by Claudia F. Savage for Drunken Boat
We now talk about LGBT+ issues constantly but how often do we really consider the B in there? Have you ever doubted someone who tells you they are bi — “sure, Jan” — or debated the validity of that claim behind their back? Do you have a preconceived idea of what bi “really” looks like based on what TV and movies have told you? Do you think of it just as a sexual kink or as a true identity? When I encounter ignorance about my identity, I always try to approach it from a place of warmth and education, so this is not me lecturing the monosexuals out there. I’m inviting you this week to think about your own feelings towards bisexuals and ask yourself if there is any lingering doubt or prejudice there. If you think you could be bi, ask yourself what is holding you back from accepting it — is it your own developing feelings or your fear of society around you?
—  In honor of Bisexual Awareness Week, actor Andy Mientus published a long Instagram post about being bisexual and figuring out if and how to correct people who “lump him in as gay.” This is why it’s so important to have bisexual possibility models; I’m grateful that with each Bi Week, more and more speak out. (via the Huffington Post)
It angers me that in this society we’re trained from a very young age, watching television, to swallow preconceived ideas of what is the ideal man or ideal woman. It’s prejudice, really. Many people overcome it, but so many remain oppressed if they’re not happy with their looks, if they don’t look like Robert Redford. It’s a shame, because they shouldn’t be. When I was younger, I was worried about how others viewed me and if I was good enough. I realize now that you can’t mold an image or try to be something that you are not. As far as being an actor is concerned, your work really speaks for itself.
—  River in an interview for Starlog Magazine, October 1989.
You have not come to this earth…to be this or to be that, just to be. You allow this beingness to function properly when you get yourself out the way, that is your thoughts, your preconceived ideas. When you keep the mind still, perfectly still and calm, then you will always find that you are in the right place going through those experiences that are necessary for your unfoldment and your fulfilment.
—  Robert Adams

‘When you listen to someone, you should give up all your preconceived ideas and your subjective opinions; you should just listen to him, just observe the way he is. We put very little emphasis on right and wrong or good or bad. We just see things as they are with him, and accept them. This is how we communicate with each other. Usually when you listen to some statement, you hear it as a kind of echo of yourself. You are actually listening to your own opinion. If it agrees with your opinion you may accept it, but if it does not, you will reject it or you may not even really hear it.’

- Shunryu Suzuki, Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind.

Unpopular opinion in the tcc

Dylann Storm Roof is fucking scum. Stop comparing him to Dylan and Eric because they’re motives didn’t derive from preconceived ideas. Roof is a racist piece of shit and I hope he rots in prison. I get he had no friends and was suffering from depression but the last feeling I feel for him is sympathy. Don’t argue with me on this in the comments what you have to say won’t change my mind I’m a fairly narrow minded person.


When I first moved to LA, I had some preconceived ideas about what kind of actress I was going to be. I thought it would be Jane Austen and wearing corsets and doing period films. I had this romantic idea coming to me that, being a ballerina, I was going to do certain work. But throughout the audition process you never know who you’re going to meet, and I met Joss Whedon, and he changed my life forever.

Mer and Alex: It’s not about shipping...or who is the best man.

When you’re a kid, you have these dreams of the right person — and what that will look like. As you hit your 20s, it narrows to more tangible things, but the possibility of magic and the preconceived idea of what that magic feels like or means — is alive and maybe partially coated in sugar plums. Where Doctor Throw Me Against Wall and Sweep Me Up Off My Feet, builds you a house of candles and smiles at you with this consuming feeling. 

When it happens, it’s that grand epic “falling in love”. It’s intense and raw and it seems like EVERYTHING.

And like fireworks —it explodes in all its glory and fills your whole world…and like Mer said, you trust it, you build your life around it. But just as fast as it came it can go away… for all the reasons life seems to enjoy fucking you — it simply can and does.

“There’s a reason I said I’d be happy alone. It wasn’t ‘cause I thought I’d be happy alone. It was because I thought if I loved someone and then it fell apart, I might not make it. It’s easier to be alone, because what if you learn that you need love and you don’t have it? What if you like it and lean on it? What if you shape your life around it and then it falls apart? Can you even survive that kind of pain? Losing love is like organ damage. It’s like dying. The only difference is death ends. This? It could go on forever.” Meredith

Years go by, in it or between it… you’ve grown now. Known pain now. More than you ever thought you could. Hell, you were already tough as shit to begin with. But, yeah, this life thing has shown you its trauma… You hit your 40s and after all you’ve lived through, all that energy and onward motion of 25, it just isn’t the same. The picture you had isn’t quite the dream…. Some people you loved are gone; goals that didn’t pan out… unexpected turns that threw you upside down. Even your own failures. 

BUT said and done, what you actually have left over, isn’t leftover… is rock. It’s sold. Family, friends. New goals. New dreams. You know what is authentic and what is not. You still believe in magic, but you understand now; your journey takes all shapes and twists and has extraordinary layers; you are just trying to survive it.

And guess what, after all these years you have a best friend… someone who loves you and has been “ride or die” in your crappy and joyful days. Hell no, it is not the person you’d have picked or thought you’d even still have in your life…but… this person knows you like nobody else. One you trust like nobody else. Who challenges you and accepts you, day in and day out. And is there. That is the real everything. 

So Mer and Alex? I mean is it Derek? No. That’s the lightening bolt, giddy, the-second-I-saw-you-I-can’t-be-in-an-elevator-without-touching-you chemistry.  

But is Mer/Alex just as much love, only packaged differently? Absolutely.. Maybe even stronger; cause it lasts longer.

But does that mean Mer and Alex have to get physical in some bow chica wow wow, sexy-time….. then walk down the isle? No.

But is it totally OK, justified, and even awkwardly beautiful if it goes that way? Yeah, you better fucking believe it.

Life is hard. Love isn’t always as you once imagined…we can find ourselves with a life partner — loving, with two feet on the ground and that’s more than OK.

arghh, with the combination of underage fans, cishet yaoi fangirls, antis that think liking a psychological thriller means you’re morally bankrupt, and people with preconceived and inaccurate ideas about the realities of bpd and ptsd, this fandom is exhausting sometimes.

It seems that the hardest part of unlearning monogamy is helping those around me unlearn the stigmas and social rhetoric used to maintain it.

People don’t want to hear that being in love with two people is an overwhelmingly beautiful experience. They seek to reinforce their preconceived ideas that monogamy is the only ethical choice; the only right choice.

Being in love with two people makes my life incredible. M makes my every day life more bearable, sharing the burdens and creating tiny adventures to make the bullshit feel less like bullshit. O is this mystery of a person who keeps me on my toes with their constant need to challenge and pursue information. My love for each of them is unique and important. How could that be wrong?

I’m happy. I want so badly to make others see that.

A Letter to those who visit my country.

I have only one rule when you come with me to Haiti: leave all your guilt at the door. Don’t reach out of car windows handing street kids coins. Don’t take pictures of dirty kids to serve a higher purpose of making you “appreciate what it is that you have”. Haiti isn’t about you. I bring people to Haiti so they can learn about Haiti, not themselves– for how can one evolve only through a selfish gaze. This isn’t Eat Pray Love.

The problem with going to a place that you’ve already heard everything about is that you come with a preconceived notion– the idea that you must feel something, must experience some thing. What most people don’t realize is that feeling has already been concocted for you. Stories and movies of Haitian slums have already set your expectations. First world narratives of poverty have already eaten away at your soul leaving it so that you already feel guilt if you are not moved. That’s not what Haiti is about. The people who sold you that story feed on your belief of it so they can continue to vulture off a corrupt government and a never ending contribution of guilt money that never needs to be reported back; so people never have to know the names of Haitian kids or what exactly is they do all day.

So my rule is never ever ever sit in my country and treat my people like comparisons.  If you go to Haiti and tweet about a neighborhood based on its crime stats, take pictures with children that made you cry or made you feel “ashamed” about your privilege you’ve done nothing but make it about you. If you go and you write more brand names and talk more about organizations contributions than actual people: you’ve done nothing. People already KNOW Haiti is poor. It’s this shitty little thing where by reaffirming that narrative you remind them that black people are poor and dirty like they already believed and believe about blacks everywhere. That’s the something you’re feeling.

The country doesn’t need pity it needs economy. It needs you to tell people what you ate, what you drank, the jokes the kids told you, the fact that they love Rihanna and Drake. The fact that they think Supreme stuff is fire and make their own memes on Facebook at the Internet cafés and on their old model iPhones. That they too love J’s thought they may not have them. They ARE human. They need a shared experience, not more congratulations for the corporations that send them pity gifts but won’t walk their streets and will still speak of them through racist stereotypes so they can build their charity portfolio.

They need you to name the names of the beaches where you post your selfies and explain how beaches in Haiti are for white tourists because DUH we all live by the water on an island and tanning is not a hobby in a black ass country. They need you to tell the stories of the street vendors that sold you beer and fritaille and how the beer is still brewed in the homeland. They need people to know that 90% of the world exports can be grown on Haitian soil because its that fertile but we import everything because the government has abandoned its own people. They need the world to stop thinking of them as a place where they’re so broke they’ll kidnap you- because LOL at the idea of an American being kidnapped in Haiti. (Literally Haitians laugh at this notion.)

They don’t need to be markers for your personal evolution or your sadness or your gratefulness at having resources. They don’t need to be trotted out for pity so you can come back and throw a festival in their name. They need you to tell Young Thug and Future to come to Haiti because they love seeing them rep in their songs; that they are very much tuned into the “first world” but you do none of this.

You clap for yourselves as Americans and express shock that they are humans with a sense of community. You visit only Cite D’Soleil a slum so dangerous every single article in Haiti ever has mentioned it or interviewed someone there. A slum so “nefarious” it has its own movie—real nuance!. You rehash the narrative of oppressors rather than letting Haiti teach you how to laugh, how to cook fish, how to be a hedonist, how to drink rum, how to dance kompa, how to play dominoes, how to roast niggas in the dark while chopping down a 14ft stalk of sugar cane with a machete under the moon. How every Haitian that comes back from “an deyó” returns with nothing less than 4 suitcases of provisions. How grandmothers in Brooklyn stuff 200lbs of food, clothes, water etc and smuggle them home to drop off at Delmas, or Petionville or even an “affluent” hood like Vivi-Michel directly because they know the Red Cross and the UN aren’t going to real homes.

You spend your nights talking to white people who steal from us rather than night riding in the ghost towns covered in colorful and faded hand-painted ads around Champs Mars and visiting the fish markets at 5am for the freshest catches and the funniest arguments–swerving through the traffic of mothers trying to get kids to school and get to work. You came back with nothing and you gave nothing and if your response is “I did all these things!” than why doesn’t it show? Next time you go to my country step off the pedestal of first world pity and feel the red soil in your toes. Learn the names and stories and then tell them with no additives. Tell them not to make people cry but to remind motherfuckers that this world is big, diverse and it’s beautiful and Haiti is the most beautiful place in the world. That black kids are people, poor or rich.

They’ll say im subbing you but I didn’t mention names because it isn’t one person and again it’s not about YOU. It’s everyone who insults me by asking if I’ll be “safe” when I’m going to visit my FAMILY for two weeks. It’s every person who goes to DR but would never consider the land just across the river. For everyone who goes to Africa, India, Brazil and does the same boohoo about being shocked that poor people are good to each other. It’s about real culture not the culture you retweet but the kind that makes people say PLEASAE TAKE ME WITH YOU rather than “I just donated.” Its about real connection and humanity not a pity narrative or a moral workout session for those who have over the havenots.

I don’t go to Haiti to feel better about being an American. I go to Haiti to be a better Haitian; to show real love. All I ask is that you all do the same. Be better and do better. I’m willing to take anyone anytime. My family begs that I bring friends with every trip because my uncle says they don’t really know us, they only know the white people’s view. I’m happy to show you the real way because it’s not a vacation destination to me: it’s home. Don’t ever do that to my heart again.


When his career is observed, it seems to have spent much time and effort to counter the perception others had about you. — Until a certain point. But much of what you say is linked to ‘The Fall’. It’s the kind of role for which I had never considered, because of preconceived ideas about the kind of actor you should be if you have participated in campaigns for fashion brands. They had never given me the opportunity. He did not seek revenge, but simply exercise my interpretive muscle in a far from what you usually expect from me project. I admired discover that I was comfortable in such a dark ground. Each paper helps you learn new things about yourself. It’s complicated when you play someone so evil, but you have to dig in yourself, to find things you carry inside you. For example, I know there is anger inside me. Almost never comes to the point that my friends have never seen it and my wife does not even know it exists, but I know it’s there. — Jamie Dornan for ICON (El país)

I really love the idea of an AU where Warden Aeducan and Warden Brosca are both taken in by Duncan at the beginning of the game and are forced to work together through the Blight because there’s so much baggage there, Aeducan has preconceived ideas about what the Casteless are like, and Brosca has resentment about the life Aeducan has lead and how blind their are to the struggles of the people they were supposed to help rule. 

Like Brosca yelling at Aeducan that they were Carta not because they wanted to be but because what else were they suppose to do. Aeducan whispering about growing up knowing a dagger could be in their back at any moment because of who they were. Brosca ranting about a mother that has never loved them and a sibling who they miss. Aeducan bitter over the father they lost and the siblings they thought to be a friend who were holding that dagger all along.

Understanding each other. Aeducan letting go of the lies they were told, little by little, seeing Brosca as an equal. Brosca understanding that they can change.

Then coming back to Orzammar. Brosca wanting Aeducan because a future for their people, their lives, for Dust Town, even if it might be an empty promise. Aeducan wanting Harrowmont because how can they look at the brother who sent them to die for his crimes and see a king?

Warden against Warden. All that progress slipping away. Or perhaps, Brosca whispering in the dark when they have yelled themselves out-

“We are forgetting someone. There is one other who could claim the throne, rightfully”