ok but every time i make a post about finn being force sensitive i always get asks and replies about how he doesn’t need to be force sensitive to use a lightsaber and be awesome like……. yeah i know that lmao that is 100% not the point i was trying to make. the point is that lucasfilm deliberately used their only black lead in 6+ films to do a classic switcheroo with their white lead because they clearly want her to use the lightsaber and the force in these films. like finn’s storyline regarding the jedi at this point can be summarised as binch you thought!!!!!! and if u don’t think it’s fucking revolting for certain parties to act as tho john boyega carrying that fucking movie doesn’t make him worthy of being treated like the male lead that he is then congratulations i guess good for u
ok I just want to make something clear, if I take ages to answer to you or don’t at all, it doesn’t mean I don’t care abt you, pls I try my best but I’m mentaly ill and sometimes I can’t even find motivation to feed myself much less to talk to people, so pls if you feel hurt tell me about it sometime later when I’m feeling better or something, but don’t act petty towards me or call me bad names, it really makes me feel bad and I really don’t need that kinda toxicity in my life
honestly i hate callout culture so much it’s ridiculous like if you have an issue with something somebody’s said that’s not putting anyone in immediate danger then people need to just approach someone one on one rather than doing it in a public forum i’m so over people disagreeing with some petty thing that someone on here has said and making a callout post for basically nothing that leads to the person being called out getting harrassed and bullied and then deleting it’s such bullshit
i just. i can’t ever imagine myself settling, you know?
i don’t mean like, relationships and all, but just settling with my life in general. i can’t imagine myself waking up at who knows what hour to get dressed in corporate attire, heading to a job i don’t like, talking to people i don’t give a shit about, doing things i don’t want to do for others just so i can get money from the labor they made me do, going home exhausted, then waking up the next day to do it all over again. i can’t. i can’t ever imagine myself doing that.
and it kind of scares me, this whole stubbornness i have of not wanting to be just another face in the crowd of millions crossing the street to get to their office buildings, ticking timers in their heads desperately waiting for the day to end before it even started. because all my life i’ve been set on this kind of pedestal where everyone around me is watching my every move, waiting to see the next trick i have up my sleeve to awe and wow and amaze and astound. i was raised—trained, really—to always be the one to stand out, to be better than everyone else, so it should follow that i’d excel and get a good, stable job and be rich and successful and get promotion after promotion under a boss who’s endlessly pleased with my work but it’s just. not what i want. it’s not what i want, and it’s not who i am.
i don’t want to be just another person working to get money and live a relatively fine life and die and just be another name on a tombstone waiting for my relatively fine family members to visit me as i rot in my grave. i want to do something, i want to create something, i want to make something; change, a difference, whatever you want to call it. i want to leave something worthwhile in this world that affects other people for the better, and i can’t do that behind a desk and a stack of paperwork waiting to be filed and forwarded.
it’s so unpredictable, and so unstable, choosing a path that’s not even less traveled but something that wasn’t even here until i carved it into the ground in the first place. and i’m not sure i can excel in this. i’m not sure i can rise up as easily as i can under the eyes of a steely business owner who just wants me to do everything they want, when they want, how they want. i’m not sure i can handle the pressure of seeing other people around me being comfortable in their stable jobs, with their stable money, with their stable lives.
and it’s fucking scary. it’s so fucking scary. there’s a fine line between bravery and complete reckless idiocy, and i’m already testing it by stomping head on in blind determination without looking where i’m stepping.
but i’d rather die trying than die knowing i never had the nerve to try at all.