I think unconditional love is a beautiful thing, so long as we don’t use it against ourselves. I can love all of humanity, but that doesn’t mean that I will put up with all of humanity. The boundary, for me, is set at healthy self-regard. When my unconditional love for another undermines my self-respect, the fence goes up. Not because I don’t believe in their possibilities, but because I have come to realize that there is no value in sacrificing my actuality for their potentiality. I make a distinction between human potential- which may well be infinite-and human reality- which is often quite finite, particularly in those who choose, over decades, to remain asleep. Yes, they may well awaken, but we should never postpone any part of our own life waiting for that to happen. Unconditional love begins at home, with the protecting and honoring of our own unique journey.
CHIRON*: The wounded healer. Shows your deepest wound and how to heal others. Strength and understanding through suffering. Salvation for the self through aiding others. Perseverance, wisdom, and teaching. Associated with Virgo and Sagittarius.
CERES*: The earth mother. Unconditional love. Shows where you feel most nurtured and how you demonstrate love and care to others. Mothering, tenderness, and support. Associated with Cancer.
PALLAS: The independent strategist. Shows source of intelligence, creativity and personal power. Courage, justice, and wisdom. Father/daughter relationship. Associated with Leo.
JUNO: The committed lover. Shows capacity for forming and maintaining meaningful relationships. Personal boundaries, intimacy, and sharing. How you demonstrate commitment and deep affection. Balance of authority and submission, power and vulnerability, giving and sharing, in relationships. Associated with Libra.
VESTA: The virginal self. Shows capacity for self-sufficiency and where you direct your devotion. Sense of trust, love and respect for the self. Personal potential, your pure essence. Chastity, intimacy, and sexuality. Integration and focus. Conscious self will in contact with the other, both people and environment. Associated with Virgo and Scorpio.
*Not technically asteroids. Chiron is classed as a minor planet and Ceres as a dwarf planet.
Don’t you love when things are going great and then a random Depressive Episode™ comes along and you suddenly feel like doing self detrimental things?
Time for me to drink a bunch of caffeine.
Bring on the panic attacks.
aph kids that feel overwhelming surges of love randomly and start hugging people bc “gdi you’ve been my friend for like two days youre such a great person???”
aph kids with no personal space whatsoever and sometimes kiss people in a completely platonic way and their friends are left wondering what the fuck just happened
aph kids that arebitterabout love!!!!! self contradicting demigods gdi!!!!!
ones that embody all the marina and the diamonds songs ALL OF THEM
ones that embody all the taylor swift songs oh my god
ones that are amazing with make up like what the fuck eyeliner game too strong
ones that make dresses off the curtains in the cabin like giselle from enchanted tbh
yes aph kids that are all kinds of outer beauty
yes aph kids that are all kinds of inner beauty
aph kids that are okay looking but god damn they appreciate and see the beauty in everything and everyone
photographers!! painters!!!! ARTISTS!!
black widow type of aph kids that are all about emotional manipulation
ones that like to sleep around with literally everyone
ones that are saving themselves for that special someone
APHRODITE KIDS THAT SHIP EVERYTHING??????
aph kids that have one otp they will defend to their death
ones that have had their wedding day planned down to what tablecloth they’ll be using since they were like 5
ones that want to be wedding planners/bridesmaids their life goal is literally 27 dresses
ones that prefer not to get married
all aph kids that fight and rally for gay rights all together and very passionately
asexual/aromantic aph kids that appreciate love from afar!!!
literally all the sexualities are represented in the cabin and everyone is cool with it bc its all the same love for gods sake
ones that represent love for famliy
love for friends
love for country
love for tv
love for apple pie
love for shoelaces
LOVE FOR LITERALLY ANYTHING
IM HAPPY FOR PIPER MCLEAN BUT I AM SO MAD AT RIORDAN FOR MAKING THE REST OF THE APHRODITE CABIN REPRESENT THE MOST SUPERFICIAL AND BASIC FORM OF LOVE AND BEAUTY (DATING PEOPLE AND PINK FRILLY STUFF HONESTLY) im not saying you cant have drew tanaka-esque aph kids too but
YOU CANNOT DEMEAN A GODDESS OF SOMETHING AS ABSTRACT AND AS TIMELESS AS LOVE AND BEAUTY TO BRANDED CLOTHES AND MAKE UP
my fav thing abt trauma is the ways the coping mechanisms we developed for them dont accommodate our new relationships and experiences, they stay stagnant while the world around us moves along, not translating and positioning us to unknowingly self-sabotage new and potentially good experiences and people bc we are always operating from a place of scarcity and self-defense even when we may no longer need to, in doing so allowing us to manifest the same experiences and patterns that hurt us. really. truly the gift that keeps on giving
Request: could i please request a (young) peter maximoff, like the one you wrote for steve rogers, shattered? i struggle so fucking much with this, and i was wondering if it was something that could be done? maybe they just started dating though, and he says i love you for the first time? idk, you don’t have to if you don’t want to! @halseysbuttplug
Pairings: Peter Maximoff x Reader
Warnings: Self harm (could potentially be triggering)
A/N: I relate so much to this too mate. You are not alone. Message me if you ever need to talk. I’m always here for you guys! <3
Your bedroom was a mess. Clothes thrown everywhere, the normally neat stack of books toppled over and messy, the drawers opened with its contents spilling out. This wasn’t you in any way, shape, or form.
Your OCD levels were insane, and it anyone close to you saw this, they would immediately assume something horrible happened or someone had broken in.
I suppose that’s why no one expected it.
No one saw passed the calm and collected barriers you put up.
Not even Charles, a telepath, could see that something was wrong.
You had put up walls so thick and so tall that no one would ever be able to break it down or even scale it.
But somehow, someway, Peter Maximoff managed to wiggle and worm his way into your heart. You didn’t necessarily give in easily but with his constant asking and compliments, you resolve finally broke and you let him take you out on a date.
A couple months later, here we are, one month into a relationship. He had officially done it. He had tore down the walls.
But that doesn’t mean you had just dropped all your walls.
Taking the blade, you cut across your wrist, relishing in the pain and enjoying the sight blood now spilled on my floor.
The cool metal a deep contrast to my burning flesh; as if a constant reminder that it always held a certain power over you.
“Hey, Y/N, you- hey. Hey. What’s wrong?”
You winced slightly as Peter came into view and grabbed your wrists, examining them gently.
You never wanted anyone to see you like this, worse of all him. You didn’t want anyone knowing you could be weak. That you even had emotions.
You were always the person who helped others. Always the one who people came to for advice.
Rarely were you asked things like, “What’s wrong?” or “Are you okay?”
And sure, you were mostly to blame for that. But… it wouldn’t hurt for someone to check in once in awhile. For someone to just ask.
But they never did.
So you voided yourself of showing emotion. Save for the occasionally whiny rant to make this whole facade believe, you were about as open to people as a brick wall.
Peter was a small exception. He’d chipped away at the wall you had built up over all the years, but not by much.
You whimpered softly, curling away from him, “I’m fine, i’m fine.”
“You are not fine. Y/N, look at me. Look at me.”
He took your face in his hands and held it, “You’re okay. You can talk to me. I promise you, you can talk to me.”
“I… I…” Through short measured you barely managed to get any words to form.
“Shhh baby, shhh. What can I do to help? You don’t need to tell me why or when just… how can I help you? What can I do?”
You stopped for a moment, calming yourself, before bringing your gaze up to meet his, “What?”
Your voice came out small and weak, displaying exactly none of your normal confidence.
“I’m serious. I don’t want to see you go through this. You’re too amazing, too nice, too smart, too beautiful. I don’t want to see you like this. I want to do whatever I can to make you happy. To make you feel loved. I love you too much to see you hurting like this.”
You choked back your tears as you tried to form a coherent sentence; anything to convey how you felt right now. “Peter…”
“You will never go through anything else alone. I will always, always, be here for you, okay? I love you.”
He brought your wrists up to his lips and kissed them gently before pulling you close to his chest and holding you to him.
“I love you too,” I whispered softly.
He kissed the top of your head and rocked you gently. You weren’t sure how long you stood like that, but it didn’t matter.
You were safe now. You felt yourself slowly gaining back all the missing control.
The corpus callosum is what unites Cain and Abel which is metaphorical for the right and left hemispheres of the brain. The corpus callosum is a broad band of nerve fibers that join the two hemispheres of the brain. When kundalini flows properly these nerve fibers are hyper stimulated and creates unity between the masculine and feminine energies and the hemispheres of the brain. When kundalini is not properly flowing we are spiritually and physically unrealized which is why in this state we have condemned ourselves to wander aimlessly. When the corpus callosum functions regularly we then see that we are found in our self realization and full potentiality of our brains functions.
~ Chris Brackett & Erica Esquibel Brackett; The Serpentine Soul of the Adept
To have that sense of one’s intrinsic worth which constitutes self-respect is potentially to have everything: the ability to discriminate, to love and to remain indifferent. To lack it is to be locked within oneself, paradoxically incapable of either love or indifference. If we do not respect ourselves, we are on the one hand forced to despise those who have so few resources as to consort with us, so little perception as to remain blind to our fatal weaknesses. On the other, we are peculiarly in thrall to everyone we see, curiously determined to live out–since our self-image is untenable–their false notions of us. We flatter ourselves by thinking this compulsion to please others an attractive trait: a gist for imaginative empathy, evidence of our willingness to give. Of course I will play Francesca to your Paolo, Helen Keller to anyone’s Annie Sullivan: no expectation is too misplaced, no role too ludicrous. At the mercy of those we cannot but hold in contempt, we play roles doomed to failure before they are begun, each defeat generating fresh despair at the urgency of divining and meeting the next demand made upon us.
Think of a Polaroid,
with its thick, white border around my
snapshot of Kadeem,
little boy with shiny onyx skin
squatting behind white bars
on my uncle’s porch
Face pressed hard to the wood,
he reminds me of the near half a million*
black men sitting
in cold cement cells
barred in isolation by oppression
idleness and self-defeat,
under those same bars The World wants him
to stand behind later in his life.
“SMILE!”… quick click, burst of light.
I turn it around to view
10 megapixels of family
gathered before a turquoise horizon.
Same little black boy with the shiny onyx skin,
all grown up, stands in front.
The pearl white cap and gown set
is the perfect contrast against
picture an old Polaroid
For the photo just taken,
displays a black man
in his fight to slay historical lies.
And he won.
As my grandmother shouts,
“It’s time to celebrate!”
Damn, Polaroids. Do they even still make those?
*This poem is dedicated to all the Black men I know conquering their dreams by their own terms.