the broken spoke

My relationship with my Armenian identity comes from maternal grandmother. My grandmother married my grandfather when she was 14. My grandfather was 45 at the time; he had three wives and my grandmother became his fourth wife. My grandmother was my grandfather’s only official wife. My grandfather is a Sunni Turk, my grandmother is an Islamised Armenian. That is why they used to call us ‘the grandchildren of the giaour’ in the neighborhood. That phrase used to offend us three.

My grandmother’s name was Nazmiye, but her real name was Nazenik. I made a great effort to find out what her real name was. My grandmother spoke broken Turkish. At first, I couldn’t understand why, but over time, I realized that Armenian was her mother tongue; she had learned Turkish later.

—  “I explain my ties with my Armenian identity through my love to my grandmother,” from Ankara’s Armenians Speak, an oral history prepared by Ferda Balancar and published by the Hrant Dink Foundation
‘Nother Ficlet With No Name

Post Finale…Characters Doing Stuff

The books were piled high across Regina’s dining room table.  Belle, Regina and Maleficent flipped through them at an alarming rate.  Less alarming then the way the three women spoke in broken bits of English with languages that sounded like gibberish.  Legal pads were spread around and Snow wasn’t sure what to do, she felt helpless.  Helpless while her daughter was suffering the  wrath of The Dark One.  

Lily stood beside her, her arms crossed over her chest.  “You following any of this Princess Amber Alert?”  

It was a none-too-subtle jab at their past.  “No.  I never really learned anything about magic.”  She shook her head, “When I was a child I saw Cora practicing magic in her chambers.  It involved books and-I don’t remember.”  She felt a sudden chill and wrapped her own arms around herself to ward it off.  “I don’t even remember much but it filled me with dread.  Sometimes it still does.”

“Cora?”

Snow pushed her hand though her hair.  “The Queen of Hearts”  She sighed, “And Regina’s mother.”

“Jesus”  Lily swore, “It’s like an acid trip through Disney World.  Let me guess she was a villain too.  Where’s she at Litchfield for Fairytale Division?”

No one laughed.  

“She’s dead.”  Zelena spoke from her place in the corner of the room.  “My Dear Sister let herself be tricked into murdering her by the precious little sugar plum Snow White.”

Lily’s eyes widened, “Are you serious?”

Zelena lowered her copy of What to Expect When You’re Expecting, “As a heart attack.”  She cocked her head to the side, “She’s two-for-two.”

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3

Y/N stood over the grave, clutching the flowers she brought to her chest. It was bad enough when Steve had come home to tell her Bucky had died. She and Bucky, while they may not have been best friends, were extremely close. Y/N had even told Steve it was like losing a brother. Now Y/N had actually experienced losing a brother. Y/N laid the flowers down on the grave that held no body and stood up from her kneeling position. Just before she turned away, she spoke in broken speech to the gray headstone.
“You were supposed to come home, Steve. You were supposed to come home, so I could patch you up,” with those final words, Y/N walked away from the cold reminder that she had lost the only family she had left.
requested by anon
requests are open

Trying to Say Come Back

In that first minute we met I knew all atoms in the cosmos had conspired together, putting aside all their wars, just for this.

When I shook your shaking hand, I saw sad dust in your eyelashes and wondered if you
would still tremble when we kiss.

One day all the lights went down, our city painted tar, until you spoke your broken prose and made everything glow yellow.

And my mind still shelters your words now, but they’re dim, turned blue, not bright, just a tiny fragile echo.

I never thought to tell you how much I hate
drowning too. Now you’re free (I pray) and I’m left beneath the weight of all this sand.

See, my love, the thing about you was how you gave me such amnesia but now there’s an atlas between us, there’s only so much of life I can stand.

My best friend who I spent two very important years of my life with called me today and we had a talk.
She was the one who would always freestyle with me in the sketchy park while we drank Flor de Caña from the bottle and I wondered what Latin America would be like if we hadn’t met each other there.
She was the one who took me to the beach on the day I didn’t fee like living
Even though our tickets were “de pie” and we didn’t understand what that meant until we realized we had no seat numbers and we sat next to the sex worker in heels in the handicapped section the whole way
We didn’t think we were better than her and I spoke in broken Spanish and we somehow made it to the beach.
Those were good days. I don’t remember being that happy that often.
Then we went to China and that’s where you went crazy for reasons unsaid and we saw the ghost and cried ourselves to sleep while listening to Bon Iver because we didn’t know what else to do.
I loved you then and I still love you now.
You asked me why I couldn’t imagine what you had gone through and I told you I hated when people equate my feelings to their own.
I won’t ever be able to suspend myself and my reality to imagine what it was like and I don’t even want to try
I never thought you lied, but I never believed you were as crazy as you let on.
I remember the night you tried to throw yourself out of the taxi but I don’t know if you remember that.
I sent you a message that said, “I miss growing with you,” and I meant it. We haven’t been able to grow together in a while.
You said you were happy I sent that because you knew it was sincere and that it takes a lot for me to tell people things like that.
You told me I taught you that the worst thing you’ve ever been through was always a fair fight.
I still stand by that.
I hope you’re soaking in the air in Nicaragua that makes you feel.
Not heavy or light, but something.
That seems to be our reoccurring theme.
Heavy and light.
I miss your words and your intellect but mostly I do miss our growth together.

anonymous asked:

How long did u study french?! Youre adorable

I was educated in french till grade 5 when my parents decided it was kind of embarrassing that I spoke broken English with a french accent when no one in my family speaks the language hahaha

God Bless Texas & #VinylRanch @lonestarbeer #BrokenSpoke

www.vinylranch.com

#countrymusic #country #texas #music #love #fashion #denim #cowboy #cowgirl #rodeo #style #stylish #outlawcountry #cool #beer #fashionblogger #vintage #80s #urbancowboy #austin #atx #lonestar #texasforever #redneck #willienelson #waylonjennings (at Broken Spoke Dancehall)

I kept getting ashes in my eye

So it’s been a year since you died and I get that english wasn’t your first language but who cares? Because when we were just 12 and 11 year old boys who spoke broken parts of 3 languages you and your brother were probably the closest friends I had there. There was the time you fucking swung over a speared gate with a tree branch and convinced me to do it too? Then a few days later we spent the afternoon lighting fire ants on literal fire. 

That one year with you gone felt like forever though. It’s hard for me to take in how much I grew up after your passing. So much good and bad has happened to me and it’s still all so unbelievable that you won’t hear any of this from my mouth ever (in whatever manner of tongue we may have spoken). Every now and then when I climb somewhere high up or smoke lingers from a friends cigarette I think of you.

Another #amazing day on the bike despite another broken spoke and 30+ degrees. I set off super early this morn and really pushed myself despite the heat. As a result I made it to my destination #Mons just after midday. I’m so glad I got extra time here just so I could explore the incredible Cathedral. It doesn’t matter if you’re religious or not, this place will inspire you. I’m now well ahead of schedule so will be in #Brussels by tomorrow!!!. #bikepacking #bicycletouring #Belgium

Switch partners: Dirt under Broken Spoke dance hall has new owner after big apartment deal

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The 704 luxury apartment community, built around the iconic Broken Spoke dance hall on South Lamar Boulevard, has been sold to an undisclosed buyer for an untold price. The deal was announced by sellers Transwestern and Amstar and makes no mention of the music venue — even though public records indicate that partnership also owned the dance hall.
Sources inside the real estate community and a resident who received a written notice said CWS Capital Partners is the buyer. CWS has a major presence…

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#URLinkedUp Austin Business News – Local Austin News | Austin Business Journal http://bit.ly/1ERyffl

#Austin Check out URLinkedUp > http://bit.ly/1o4wis3


Filed under: #Austin, #News Tagged: #austin, #News
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http://bit.ly/1fBW9Vi #URLinkedUp Check out URLinkedUp >www.urlinkedup.com

We may be from two different countries and we may have been born into families who spoke two different languages, but I’ve never heard anything more beautiful than the broken English you spoke to me. You told me I was your kitten and that I was beautiful and soft and then you pulled me down into your sheets and made love to me another time. 

I try to romanticize the pain that I feel when I think about how badly I miss you. Our whirlwind two weeks of summer romance is something I don’t know if I will ever be able to shake. I knew from the beginning you would have to leave and go back home, but I didn’t know it would hurt so badly. 

intrcpidwest asked:

"I think I love you"

Barry wasn’t even sure he had heard her right. They’d been sitting in the familiar living room, talking about how their day had gone. For a moment, there was a comfortable silence between them. While Barry looked up some apartments on his phone for a moment. He loved Joe, and living back home was great. But– having his own place sounded kind of nice. Said silence was broken when Iris spoke.

And Barry was sure the world stopped completely– actually, was he even breathing? Nope, he was. But.. did… did she really jut say that? Wide, confused– maybe a little disbelieving eyes at her. 

“I…”

“Iris?”

Is she serious?

intrcpidwest

This was us Friday night at the broken spoke … Dancing fools 💜 #harleyandjoker #fitcouplegoals #fitcouple #fitchick #doyouevenliftbro #teamdye #beastmode #bodybuilding #weightlifting #fitfam #fitness #progress #ourjourney #swolemates #soulmates #team #athletes #ladiesthatlift #girlsthatlift #litandfit #weliftbruh #helifts #shesquats #quadzilla #quadsquad #lovers #friends #teammates #zyzz #waitforus by weliftbruh https://instagram.com/p/6uo7RnFGa5/

thoughts

I just saw this quote that hit me so incredibly hard. It was simply “We’re too young to be broken”. Those 6 words spoke to me more than any person has been able to. We all know that life is going to end one day and one day we will be nothing but a memory of other people. Which makes me wonder why we dont spend everyday with nothing but happiness. Why do we let anxiety and conflict get in the way of being okay. It sad to think that we are all so young yet so broken inside, its even sadder to think that we have become professional at hiding it from everyone. Maybe one day ill be okay and maybe one day when i look that that same quote again i wont feel guilt or anxiety but ill agree with it. 

ofshinobiandsamurai asked:

“You have lovely eyes, you know.” (Kurai & Gyobu)

“Loving eyes? You must be joking?”

The adviser peered over from pouring tea to look at the sword that sat adjacent to him. Mitsunari had stormed out again in another meeting as he was frustrated by the man’s words. He wondered how he ever focused on anything if it hadn’t pertained to killing Ieyasu or about their passed Lord Hideyoshi. As he poured the glassed, Yoshitsugu settled the teapot down before grabbing his own cup to take a sip.

“Haa… If anything, my eyes should be cold and filled with darkness.
The grief of pain and misery soaked within age.”

The broken butterfly spoke, his wings sliced, and destroyed by the disease that plagues him as it slowly eats away at his body. He closed his darkened eyes before peering back at Kurai with his golden orbs. 

“Are you sure that is something that really should be said to a man like me?
My eyes are not lovely as stated, there is nothing lovely about me.”

2

22,840 dollars raised for the Brain Tumour Foundation of Canada
4,962 kilometers
80 days of cycling
8 different countries
8 shredded break pads
3 broken spokes
1 flat tire
1 continent
Countless memories

Thank you all for your generous donations and support throughout this adventure!

You can see our progress from 36.1430°N to 60.3894°N (roughly an eighth of the circumference of the earth) at
http://trackmytour.com/Gg1qX

It is pretty surreal being in Bergen. We started planning this tour over a year ago, and it is still sometimes hard to believe that we started, let alone finished the journey. We hope that John is smiling down upon us.

It was a real pleasure to experience the freedom of biking - having all of your possessions on a bike and depending on only yourself (and partner/navigator) to get wherever you need to go. Not a day went by when I didn’t think “couldn’t have seen that if we weren’t biking!” I started out this trip not particularly enjoying the activity of cycling, but can honestly say that after four months on a bike every day…it’s grown on me.

Phil and I are both happy to be saying goodbye to Ruby and Toupé, not wearing matching outfits everyday (though I’m worried I might lose him in a crowd) and continuing on our trip of a lifetime around the world.

If you have enjoyed our photos and stories, please follow along on the next part of our journey at

www.traphiladjentures.tumblr.com

(That’s TraPhil AdJentures…I know - I couldn’t believe that handle wasn’t taken yet either!)

Cheers,

Jen and Phil