they really made ​​me believe in myself

anonymous asked:

(Rant anon)Okay, I used to think I was endogenic, but there's a side of Tumblr with exclusively trauma based systems which are really rude to endogenic systems. Seeing all that hatred made me feel so invalid I started digging around with repressed memories and well I can firmly say I'm traumagenic, thanks a lot. Those memories were repressed for a reason. I don't understand why people so this, it's harmful as hell. I tore myself apart to be able to justify this, and I shouldn't have to. Gross.

I get this so hard. I stick with my endogenic label exactly for this reason. I don’t care if the childhood I remember was a lie, though I fully believe it wasn’t. I don’t want trauma, and repressed memories are supposed to stay repressed.

I’m sorry you went through this, anon. I hope you guys have a good day.




A few weeks ago I was feeling pretty down. I was having trouble with a person and I was feeling very underappreciated as an artist, and while I did have my problems, it pissed me a lot. But instead of feeling sorry for myself (for once) I started thinking about other great, awesome artists I followed who could be feeling even shittier and not believing in themselves.

I admire them; each one of them. Each had their own perks that made themselves and what they create special. And I realized that hell, I love being told what people like in my work. Not just “you’re so good”, but “I love the way you draw this and that”. At that moment, I really wished someone would come over and tell me that. How many other artists around weren’t feeling that way, at that moment?

So the messaging started. I never wrote a model message, they were all personal. And the answers were all personal too. People who responded sounded honestly happy someone took time to tell them what they admired in them, and told them never to give up no matter what. The ones who didn’t, well - I know they liked it, because it was from the bottom of my heart.

So after this time debating if I should write this little thing or not, I made it.  I don’t know if there’s anythig similar around, but if it does, take this as a reinforcement. It’s not a campaign, nor a meme, nor will it grant you favours from your favorite artists. Please, don’t do anything if it’s for interest. Instead, look at the artist as another human being who struggles with daily life and yet make such beautiful things you admire so much. Call them by their name, tell them what you like in them. Or draw, paint, write or compose a lil’ something for them. Doesn’t matter. Show appreciation.

Send the love around to those who inspire you.

(sorry for any mistakes, English is not my mother tongue and it’s a bit rusty)


Read all three parts over here:

Whoo! Kind of hard to believe that first gen only lasted two weeks. Anyway, here’s the end of Red’s journey, the way I see it.

I’m really looking forward to seeing what people come up with for Crystal, and I’m 100% in the camp that it should have its own mythos and in-jokes. Save the revival of old memes for when we see Red again. Until that point, it’s J-Down’s time to shine. New gen, new world and all that.

I’m alone
i’m unwanted
i’m undesired
i’m worthless
i’m a burden
i’m a freak
i’m an anomaly
i’m the problem

“you’re not alone. you are loved. I’ll always be here for you”


project-drevon-gray said:
Ur arts of Josh are amazing!! ♡♥ ur artstyle is unique. Its a mixture of American and Japanese style. One thing tho,do u ship climbing class? :3
Thank you XD <3
 Regarding JoshXChris, I don’t mind seeing the other fanarts being done on it but I can’t get myself into drawing anything beyond bromancy shits and giggles at the moment. This is because, for me to really get into a shipping, I need to be convinced within the cannon universe.. and so far, I have yet come across anything that really made me believe. 
If anyone can toss me a climbing class fanfic that stays super true and relevant to the cannon, I could get into this shipping for sure.
And like I said, I don’t mind seeing other peoples’ fanarts on them -w-     

Writing, if nothing else, is a bridge between two people, a bridge made of language. And language belongs to all of us. If I enjoy a poem, that just means I am recognizing within it something of myself, something I must already possess. Therefore, to love a poem is to love a part of myself revealed to me by another person…I really believe that writing is the closest thing we have to true magic. Where else, but in words, can we discover each other out of thin air?

Raise your hand if you feel personally victimized by THE SCENE of the finale


I really can’t believe it’s been a year since UNDERTALE first came out. I don’t like getting sappy, but I’m gonna. 

It’s made me consider my actions and my impact on others more than I ever have in my entire life. It’s made me realize that I haven’t always been very kind, but has also inspired me to make changes so I can become a better person. 
It’s encouraged me to fight for my goals, rather than believe that I’ll never make anything of myself or my art.
It’s helped rekindle my faith in other people, helping me believe they can be kind to me too after experiencing so much cruelty in my life.

 It’s placed hope in my heart that hasn’t been there for a long time. 

I know some people might say it’s a simple little game, but to me it means so much. I want to show it to my child someday, and I hope they’ll find strength in it too. 

Now since I’m already crying I’m gonna wrap this up with another Thanks.

Thank you Toby Fox, and others in development, for your hard work. Thank you for sharing this story. 

Happy Birthday UNDERTALE. 

(2/2) “The day I graduated high school was the happiest day of my life. My mom had passed away the summer before my senior year and I was living in Baltimore at the time. Nobody knew I was living by myself. I rented a room in a house in Maryland. I was seventeen years old at the time. I was spending all the government money to pay for rent and go to school. My father was part of the PTA, but no one knew that I wasn’t actually living with him. He had kicked me out. It was the best day when I graduated. I’d finally made it. I don’t believe anyone was there in the crowd for me, but I’d done it for myself. It was really hard getting to that point. Graduating high school was the biggest milestone I’ve reached.”


“for an experiment, a group of people were brought under hypnosis and they were told to tell themselves "I’m really strong” and then lift up as much as they could. people lifted up till about 100 kg.
the same group of people were told to do the same things, but this time they had to tell themselves “I’m really weak”. they could all barely lift up 10 kg.
when I was about 13 years old I started to point out all my flaws to myself and telling myself “I’m so ugly” and I spent over 3 years absolutely hating myself, because that’s what society had told me, that it was totally normal to hate yourself. I spent all these years drowning in self-hatred. nobody had ever called me ugly or unworthy or whatever, but I thought I was, cause I had made myself believe it.
when I was about 16 years old, I told myself “I’m so pretty”. I just woke up one morning and decided I was pretty and I’ve believed it ever since.
I think the thing is, whether you think you CAN do something or CANT do something: you’re right.“

- 30/05/15, I think I’m starting to understand


I’ve had a few people asking whether they can commission me to make them one of those sketchbook covers I made for myself last week..
Now, since I’d feel really bad about receiving money for my at best mediocre sewing skills, and since I genuinely believe that anyone creative enough to be needing one of these will be more than able to make their own, I created this tutorial to help you on the way. :)

You can also view it in its entirety on my website.

I hope this will be somewhat useful and you can decipher my handwriting for the most part…
Let me know if there are still any questions and if you give it a go, please share your outcomes with me!
I’d love to see what you come up with!! :D

When people assume that non-disabled people deserve a medal or special recognition for having normal relationships with disabled people it makes it extremely difficult for us to recognize  unhealthy or exploitive relationships. In the past, I have allowed myself to be manipulated by other people because I believed that I was lucky simply to have friends. I have tolerated things that made me uncomfortable or unsafe because I didn’t believe I deserved better. I put my true friends through endless rounds of questioning, and having to prove to me that they really did like me, because deep down I didn’t believe they actually could. When you’re constantly told hanging out with you makes someone a saint, you begin to see yourself nothing more than a charity project. You begin to accept less than you deserve, because you live in a world that doesn’t see you as fully human or fully  desirable for relationship.

“I know most of you won’t believe me but I wrote the song [Gypsy] about San Diego, well not exactly but about a guy I met in San Diego. I hadn’t made any friends in a really long time when I came here, since I’ve become a star, I hadn’t made many new friends. He put me on the back of his motorcycle and we drove away from all my security and he got in a lot of trouble. I just held onto his leather jacket. I just remember my helmet got all foggy ‘cause I was crying ‘cause I hadn’t been outside by myself for so long. He hid me away in his little shack by the beach, and we made love all day long. And then he introduced me to all his friends. And I’ll never forget it because the one before him, he told me I would never make another friend; he told me I would die a rich old woman in my big house with all my fame and no sense of the world, he told me. But not this guy. He told me that he was a gypsy too and that if I wanted to, we could go anywhere together or anywhere apart. And then he kissed me all night at our Mission Beach party… and I’ll never forget it, we locked ourselves in the bathroom.” — Lady Gaga


I can’t tell you how many times people have made fun of me for loving Batman. I get everything from “you know he’s a fictional character, right?” to “I can’t believe you’re wasting your time writing about superheroes” to just being flat-out laughed at. And while being mocked doesn’t really bother me (I’m not about to give up something that I love just because others think it’s silly), it does upset me when people underestimate just how powerful of an impact Batman and his world has had on so many people. 

To countless fans (myself included), Batman symbolizes perseverance and a source of strength. Despite facing tragedy after tragedy, he continues to stand up for what he believes is right on a daily basis, whether it’s fighting crime and corruption as Batman or funding programs for the disadvantaged as Bruce Wayne. And while people may scoff at the idea of turning to fictional worlds for comfort, that sort of inspiration can be invaluable to those struggling through their own personal tragedies and struggles. So when you see images of Christian Bale paying his respects to the Aurora shooting victims and flying pediatric cancer patients to Disneyland, or Batman cosplayers visiting hospitalized children, or a man wearing a Batman mask as he carries the casket of a child who loved the character, that means something. If people who are experiencing some of the worst things a person can ever go through are able to find even the slightest, most fleeting sense of relief in Batman, then who are you to question or trivialize that?

So the next time you want to laugh at someone for loving Batman, you look at these pictures and you tell me that he’s “just” a fictional character. 

Pride is coming up here soon.

I’ve always wanted to go to one but I never really had pride in who I am. Years of insults and dismissal from others made me believe that what I am is something bad that should be hidden and shamed.

I’ve always wanted to go to one but I never really had the connection or community. I’d see how other people celebrated it in the news and on the web and I just felt I’d be faking it if I acted the same way. I wasn’t happy about myself, I didn’t want other people to see me.

I’ve always wanted to go to one but I would have been alone. I didn’t want that, just doing my usual routine of crawling up in a hoodie with headphones on and sinking in to the crowd, a black outfit devoid of all colour around an invisible body.

I want to go this year. I want to go with Fiona. I’m still struggling to find peace within myself, to find that reason to celebrate who I am. But I have a reason to celebrate Pride now. I want to walk down the street holding her hand, i want to show our love to the world and be like “Hey. Hey have you seen this amazing woman!”. I want to hold my head high, I want to smooch her face, and I want to shout out loud to anyone listening. I want the hundreds that tried to stop me to realise that their attempts are now all meaningless, because this one person has the power to shut them all up and show me more than just black and white.

I don’t know how long I’ll manage, social anxiety is a whole separate problem of its own. But if I can be out for even 10 minutes (pun!), if I can show the world that I am proud of who I love, if I can have just that one beautiful moment outside of holding my girlfriend’s hand while staring in to her wonderfully blue eyes - likely before having a panic attack and having to go back inside - I’ll finally have something to be proud of within me. I’ll have a reason to go next year too!

I’m typing this I suppose as a promise to both myself and Fiona, a statement that I really am trying this year, that I want desperately to find happiness, and that i truly do love her with all of my being.


After countless edits, being the fastest source for updates of Taylor’s tweets on Tumblr, gaining 30,000 followers for this sideblog that hasn’t even been alive for more than 16 months yet, 17 months since that scary day at the hospital, 15 months since Taylor followed me because of a cat meme, 3 years since I’ve been a survivor of rape, 5 years since I came out at the age of 12, 5 months with a wonderful boyfriend who knows how to take care of me and a VERY lengthy 2015, I am finally able to say that I’m seeing Taylor Swift this year. I’ve only been to see her at The Red Tour once, but they were last minute seats and I couldn’t see anything and at that time, I hadn’t experienced the worst in my life that was yet to come. And I wasn’t a fully-fledged Swiftie. But once things took a twist, and this blog was created and 1989 was released, it changed my life.

This Friday, I have the best seats for the second Melbourne Show on December 11th (Section C4, Row H, Seats 14-15) and I’m attending it with one of my best friends, Anthony. I’ve taken a lot of things in life for granted but from the moment Taylor released Shake It Off, I’ve been dancing since. She’s liked some of my posts regarding Melbourne, my selfies and my multiple cat memes. She even liked a video of me dancing to Shake It Off at a wedding. On Friday, I get to dance to Taylor singing that song live. No, I’m not wearing a costume and yes - I admit - I’m not the best person in terms of artistry and creativity, but it doesn’t mean I’m not going to wear anything fun and great! (Guess you’ll have to see!) I hope to meet MANY of you there that night and whether or not Taylor sees this, I just want her to know that even though we didn’t meet last time in 2014 when she came for X Factor/1989 Promotion, hopefully we can this time. And even if we don’t, I hope she knows I’m dancing, cut my hair short like she did and I’m happy.

I hate you [I love you]

Finally deleted the pictures of you
That had been living in my phone so long
Does that make me the stronger man?
Or the weaker one, because I couldn’t handle
Another day still clutching at the memories of you

And it breaks my heart to say so
But maybe we were made to let go.

To be really honest with myself
I can’t fucking believe
I let you ruin my favorite places
And make me turn around to see
You in everyone’s faces

I still look for you in every crowd
Even when I know for a fact you will not be around

You broke me in ways
I didn’t think were possible
Humanity itself had never seen
So many broken bones,
Or such a massacred heart

Because I didn’t just fall for you
I rolled and stumbled -
Kicked and screamed for you.
Like the mad woman I am
I fought for you
I cried and bled from my lungs for you
All the way down
And you stood at the top,
Watching me go

Losing him was hard,
It was like the feeling you get
When you turn off the music
And are left in the silence of a room

The saddest part was that
Once the music was off
I had to suffer in silence
Unable to turn it back on

Nothing lingered. Not even you

It’s strange that I could even believe
Even if just for a moment
That you couldve loved me too
I guess you were kissing a fool

And yet, I still think of you so much.
I wonder if you think of me
As often as I think of you

And now,
The sun will rise again
And so will I
Maybe not brighter than before
But definitely stronger
Because I will mend the cracks you left on me
And someday light will shine through them
Just you wait and see

I never noticed how much I really needed you until I lost you completely. I need your love, your joyful laugh, your glimmering smile, the chance to glimpse into your eyes and lose myself in the intricate colours. The way you would hold my hand firmly, almost promising to never let me go made me feel safe. Your kiss, slow and passionate made me feel loved, and that is the best emotion anyone could ever experience. I lost you, yet I can’t believe I let you go so easily. I never noticed how big of an impact you had on me.
—  Written by:
My open letter to you,

This is me, exposing myself to you in the most brutal way. All my life, I have been searching for something more. I wanted to see the world. Be the world. And never satisfied as I was, I lifted rocks, went over mountains and looked around corners. I turned leaves, to see if maybe they could tell me the answer. I went round and round, went to the end and back, until one day I finally met you. My world holds so much more beauty now that you’re in it. And that’s what I’ve been meaning to tell you. It’s you. It’s always been you. I have decided on you, even though I believe there was never really a choice to be made. And if somewhere far away, I were to find myself in another universe, I am quite frankly convinced that I would be looking for you, too. When I look into your eyes, I am no longer afraid. I think what I’m really trying to say is, if I ever had to redo it, I’d pick you all the same.
—  you are my light
See you on the other side...

HAPPY belated BIRTHDAY JANE!!!! we are only three thousand years late but here it is at long last, Hannah and Mari’s birthday gift to you, you most wonderful and excellent human. you deserve only the best things in life, and we hope you enjoy this, love

       … … . .

“Hey guys, Percy here. I have some news…” Percy shifted in his plastic office chair as he looked into the familiar big eye of the camera perched on top of a few of his housemate’s books on his desk (he really needed to buy a tripod already). “So it’s been just over two years since I made this channel, and I woke up this morning to see that I’ve now got one million subscribers! which is absolutely insane and I can’t believe so many of you tune into me talking to myself once a week.”

“Oh come on, man. You know why they love you.” His roommate, Jason decided to roll into view on his wheelie chair at that moment, not totally unplanned. He grinned charmingly into the camera.

Percy rolled his eyes. “And here to celebrate my joining of the million subscribers club, is Jason. Cue jazz hands.”

Jason made a meek attempt at jazz hands.

“Dude, that’s terrible.”

“I’m not a jazz hands kinda guy,” Jason protested.

“What kind of person do you have to be to be a jazz hand kinda guy?”

Jason scratched his chin. “I don’t know…Piper?”

Percy nodded. “Piper does love the jazz hands. Anyway, we’re here celebrating my amazing achievement. And because - as my good friend Annabeth likes to say - my imagination stems from a pea, I have failed to come up with an amazing way to celebrate. But here’s a little montage of my videos over the past two years which, yes unfortunately include the very embarrassing early years.”

“So embarrassing.” Jason shook his head.

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