~frustration

lethologica
—  (noun) Psychology | Defined as the inability to remember a word or the experience of a thought escaping you the moment you desire to articulate it, lethologica is a temporary memory loss. Categorized as a psychological disorder, which affects 9 out of 10 people; this frustrating occurrence hinders the human mind from accurately verbalizing certain names, phrases, places and words in conversation. 
2

I think I could find complexity in happiness. I don’t think anything’s ever simple. Just because you’re happy in a relationship doesn’t mean that there aren’t moments of confusion or frustration or loneliness or sadness. Hopefully, if I ever find some sort of meaningful relationship, I’ll be able to still find inspiration, just through the everyday ups and downs.”

The green syrup gushes
past my esophagus, and runs
through the channels of my stomach.

Its big feet crushes
each land it treads on,
turning the lights off in each town.

My body welcomes you,
on two separate occasions.

One: the most frequent,
where mucus finds the exit
and falls off my tongue,
where my limbs are numb
and my head is on fire,
waiting for someone to extinguish it.

Two: the most frustrating.
I can’t stop thinking
about the knives in my bed.

The ones that poke me
until there are red lines
tracing along my bones.


The ones that harden my mattress
into a rock, and when I toss
and turn, the blankets strangle
me with a hello.

The same ones that force
my eyes open, where I watch myself fall
for you over and over again,
a sickening display.


I grab the bottle from my drawer.
My words stumble like my lips
are drunk.

A full shot
and my eyes slowly
blink, each eyelash
heavier with dreams.

Static:
My mind is a lost signal. “

—  Cindy Caban, ”NyQuil”

As much as Booklr loves telling people to buy books, seriously stop telling me to buy books. Stop telling me it’s okay that I’m choosing books over food. I’m actually really frustrated with myself because I’m not being responsible and I’m getting to the age where I can’t just spend $200 on books and then having $100 left for everything else.

so yeah, if you want to be supportive, make sure I DON’T buy books

Deaf Michael part 3

ok so i had major writers block and probably did the cheesiest messiest shittiest ending ever :’( sorry guys 

Part 1

Part 2

Masterlist

request? yes

word count: 1792


Michael had finally asked you to be his girlfriend.  It has been 2 months since then and now you were in the doctors office for Michael’s appointment.  They were supposed to tell you if he would be able to hear today.  Michael would not stop fidgeting and wouldn’t even touch his phone, which made you frustrated seeing that you couldn’t speak with him or try to calm him down.  You watched him wiggle his dangling feat off the side of the doctors chair, looking everywhere but at you.  You got that he was nervous but shutting you out wasn’t doing anything but making you mad at him.  You huffed in frustration, leaning back in the seat, only to sit back up as the doctor came in.  He smiled at you, signing something to Michael You had learned a little sign language, just a few basic sentences but nothing complicated.  “so miss (y/last/n), has Mister Clifford been taking his ear drops?” you smile back at him.  “every night, he cant go to sleep without a text from me bothering him about it.” the doctor laughs, scribbling down a few things on some paper work.  “so I’m sure your both anxious to know the answer to the big question” he signed and spoke to the both of you.  The doctor looked at Michael, and then at you, you wanted to scream for him to just spit it out but Michael gave you a look to be patient, the only look he’s given you since you picked him up this morning.  “it seems that mister Cliffords procedure is going very well,” you smile looking over at Michael who was waiting for him to continue before he got excited.  “but there is a problem” you frowned and you swore you heard Michael sigh “it seems that Michaels left ear hasn’t been taking the treatment as well as the right” you spoke up, not bothering to try and sign it.  “but his right? will he be able to hear out of that?” the doctor nodded skimming his eyes over the paper.  “oh yes he will be able to hear out of both but he will need a hearing aid in his left for longer than the right”  You smile looking over at Michael. He took a minute to process the words before looking over you, trying to hold back a smile.  You squealed, tackling him into the chair.  You could feel Michael’s heart beat against your boob which made you giggle.  He grabbed your waist and pushed back so he could look at you.  Michael could tell you were confused by his actions but he just wanted to stare at you.  He was trying to figure at how you would sound, what your laugh would sound like, how many times you curse without him noticing.  It was ridiculous for you to have this much affect on him, he knew that.  But for some reason all he could think about was how you made him want to do this, you did this and he couldn’t be more grateful for that.  He finally snapped out of his daydream and grabbed your face between his pale fingers, pulling your lips to his and fighting back happy tears.  The both of you were probably making out for 2 minutes before Michaels hands crept up your shirt and the doctor coughed, making his presence known again.  You jumped back, fixing your shirt and trying not to laugh.  “sorry sorry, so back to what we were talking about which was…” you tried to think of what you were talking about but all that popped into your mind was the hickey Michael had left on your collar bone the other day.  “Michael’s procedure” the doctor finished for you.  You jumped “yes! yes that Michael’s procedure” your face was bright red now and Michael’s smirk was as big as ever as his hands rubbed up your sides.  The doctor rolled his eyes looking back at his desk, giving you time to slap your boyfriends hands away.  “So i’ll place the order for hearing aids today and they should be in in about 15 days, then we can schedule the appointment on the 11th of March, that gives you 3 days to recover and you should be ready to party on St. Patricks day” the doctor smiled.  You squeezed Michaels hand, grinning ecstatically.  “that sounds great thank you so much” he nodded opening the door for the both of you.  “ok well you kids stay safe and ill see you then” You nodded waiting for him to walk away before clutching Michael by the hand and sprinting down the halls.  You could hear Michael giggling quietly behind you as he stumbled over his legs.  You ran out into the parking lot and to the car where you then proceeded to slam your boyfriend into the car door, tiny bits of laughter escaped his lips.  You smiled, standing up onto your toes and kissing him softly.  His hands tightened around your waist, your hands going into his fading purple hair.  His teeth bit softly into your bottom lip, pulling back and reconnecting them.  You could feel your knees getting weaker and so could Michael.  He smiled into the kiss, pulling you up by your butt which made you squeal with laughter.  And you swear that could be your favorite moment in your entire life.  But then Michael pulled away to look at you, just as he did in the doctors office but this time he pushed your hair back from your face, looking at you like you had done something incredible.  He opened his mouth and then closed it, wetting his lips with his tongue.  “I- I uh- mm I thin-k ‘m falling in love wit you” His voice was raspy and rough, so incredibly sexy but also filled with such passion it made you want to jump off a bridge.  Tears welled in your eyes and you honestly didn’t know how to react.  and that, officially became your favorite moment in the entire life you’ve lived.  
*
If you thought Michael was nervous before, you had another thing coming.  Michael was literally breathing so loudly that the nurses kept signing him to ask if he was alright.  He would just lean back in the chair, shutting his eyes and nodding.  Sweat covered his forehead and you honestly didn’t know why he was so nervous.  They already told him this would work, whats he afraid of?  you picked up his phone from the counter and handed it to him with a soft smile.  He looked at you, his breathing becoming softer and softer.

you: how’re you doing
M: peachy

you rolled your eyes, biting a smile back.  

you: why’re you so paranoid about this? everything will be fine
M: thats not what I’m worried about.  I’m not really worried at all actually.  more scared… i don’t know how to explain it but i haven’t heard anything in over a decade.  its just scary i guess

you nod, locking your phone and setting it beside you.  Walking over to the doctors chair, you kneel beside him and wrap your hand in his.  Kissing it lightly, you mouth the 3 words that you haven’t been able to stop saying since the last visit.  He smiled lightly, mouthing it back.  The doctor came in holding two small boxes.  “Hello Miss (y/last/n), Mister Clifford” you smiled politely and gave Michaels hand a squeeze.  He squeezed it back giving you an acknowledgment.  “so these are the hearing aids here” he quickly signed to Michael and then proceeded to open up the boxes and play with the settings.  As the doctor stood on one side of Michael, putting the first hearing ad in, Michael’s hand became really sweaty which made you cringe.  You moved out of the way so he could put the other in.  Standing back, the doctor signed something to Michael, i which Michael signed back.  The doctor nodded, looking at you and nodding to the hallway.  He closed the door.  “so the first step of this is to make sure that Michael can hear sounds as well as voices but the sounds come first so we will have to stay out here for a moment.  After that, i have to ask Michael a few things and see if he can answer them correctly, but Michael and i talked and he wants you to ask the questions instead so-“ he reached into his pocket and pulled out a paper with some basic questions on it “just read those and ill watch to document his answers” you take a big breath with an anxious smile and nod “then lets go” we open the door back up and Michael smiles crookedly at you.  You plopped yourself into the chair sitting in front of Michael.  You looked over at the doctor, squeezing the paper tightly in your hands.  He nodded and you turned to Michael.  “ok” you whispered to yourself “what is your name?” Michael’s lips curved into a smile, he motioned with his hand to repeat, giggling you repeated it “what is your name” Michael’s mind was exploding.  The most amazing sound had just filled his ears.  He didn’t care how cheesy it sounded but your voice sounded like something he had never heard before, and then he remembered that he hadn’t heard anything before but still.  His point is that it was beautiful.  He almost started crying but stopped himself and answered the question instead “Michael” you couldn’t believe how smoothly he had said that.  You were used to Michael stumbling over his words in fear that he was saying something different than what he intended, but this Michael made you want to fuck him right in front of the doctor.  Instead of taking that route you continued with the questions. “how old are you?” for the most part he answered all the questions right.  After waiting for the doctor to send you on your way, Michael pulled something out of his pocket.  Placing it in your hand.  You smiled, opening up the folded paper.  Right away you noticed it was a bright pink sticky note, one that was among the thousands in his room.  He smiled nodding for you to read it.  

(y/n)’s voice
(y/n)’s laugh
(y/n)’s moans
(y/n) saying i love you

you blinked back tears, only laughing when you saw the third one.  You felt so much emotion in that moment that you couldn’t help but launch yourself into his arms, resting your head on his shoulder.  You both sat there for a few moments before you turned your mouth to his ear “i love you Michael Clifford”

Frustrated singer-songwriter (who knew?!) Kazuo Ishiguro talks to NPR’s Scott Simon about his first novel in ten years, The Buried Giant. It’s about an old couple taking what might be their last journey, through a land covered by strange mists that obscure memories.  They remember having a son? Or do they? 

Also, check out Ishiguro talking about watching TV Westerns as a kid, because he’s awesome:

I was five years old when I arrived in Britain. Neither of my parents spoke good English — I don’t think that my mother spoke English at all. So, I was very dependent on the English I picked up. I mean, I never had any formal English lessons. But I’ll come home, and I’ll watch my favorite cowboy shows. And in those days, television was full of Westerns, American Western shows. And so it was very confusing for me as a Japanese kid.


I didn’t know the difference between the way people spoke on the western frontier, in Bonanza, or Wagon Train, and the way people spoke in Home Counties England. Y’know, so I would just turn up at school and say, “Howdy!” and things like this. And people would be slightly taken aback. I’ve always had a love for Westerns since then. And I think I kinda saw in those Westerns something of the samurai stories that I’d been brought up on as well. Sir Gawain, you know, the last of the Arthurian knights now in old age … I mean, he’s like a figure from one of those elegiac Westerns, an aging gunfighter from a bygone era. Still one man and one horse against the big sky.

— Petra

Do You Feel Like Running for Our Lives? | An Olicity Drabble

I honestly have no idea what this is. It started as a prequel-ish thing to Send This Smile To You, but kind of evolved into I’m not sure what. This is by far one of the shortest things I’ve written and well . . I’ll let you decide. 

Summary: The one time they say “I love you” with a lot of honesty.
Gifted to: spunkyar

(Not posting on Ao3 because it’s way too short)

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I'm an effeminate gay man. I actually think what Russel said (to some extent) about it is true, but he delivered it in such offensive way. I've had hard times being effeminate and god knows how many time I faced rejection because of that, in straight or gay world. It's frustrating and a lonely road. I wish I'm masculine all the time! But, if being masculine makes me lost my sensitivity like Russel, I'd rather stay like this.

Could not have said it better myself.

For me, being mixed has been a journey, and a blessing. Growing up, my father left early, so I had and still have no connection to my white family (apparently they’re racist - yay!). My mom did wonderful in everything other than my hair, where she truly tried her best, but to no avail. In the end we stuck to flat-ironing my hair daily, and it wasn’t until a few months ago that I finally decided to ditch my flat-iron in favor of my natural curls. It’s been hard, but every day I find something that works better and I’m slowly learning to love my hair, and myself! I’ve had and have wonderful friends who are incredibly supportive, and even a mixed friend with whom I share my frustrations as far as having to argue my identity with others and having waiters/waitresses hand me and my parents separate checks when I was younger. I have to say that blogs like this have been the life of me, and have been incredibly helpful in my journey to understanding and appreciating my mixed-ness. I got to a point where I felt so alone and frustrated with many of my white friends acting as if my issues were solely ‘all in my head’, and coming here and seeing others having the same experiences has been truly refreshing. Thanks so much for this blog, and to all the other mixed people out there, you guys are absolutely stunning! I get so jealous seeing all of those beautiful curls and faces!

nb people:

Do any of you get more frustrated when people misgender you as the gender you were assigned at birth?

I am more annoyed when people misgender me with female pronouns than I am male pronouns, I think because 1) that’s what transphobes are more likely to use to deliberately misgender me and 2) those are the pronouns I am almost exclusively misgendered with and have to live with in my every day life. It tends to have the effect of triggering my dysphoria more than anything, I think, because of how my dysphoria is, etc..

It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while. Anybody else?

this is probably a bad picture to show the teether buuut it is also 3:09am so there’s that :3 it’s not perfect - it’s so far from it infact. there’s dark shadows on it which sucks but also it frustrated me so much I gave up fixing textures. tomorrow(later because it’s morning?) if anyone wants it just drop me a message and I’ll send it. of course, as I said it’s NOT perfect there’s some big flaws with it but okay for some pictures I guess.

When it comes down to Dark Emma facing off against Storybrooke, I want her dueling Regina. Yes, she’s angry at her parents, but I want Regina to be the one to draw her ire and take her blasts. I want Regina parrying magical shots with well-practiced ones of her own, deflecting them into harmless bursts of color and light. I want Emma yelling and screeching, fighting as if her life depends on it, whereas Regina is calm and cool and standing solidly across from Emma. I want Emma saying all the things she can to hurt Regina, and Regina accepting the callous truths and painful criticisms. I want Emma breaking down, folded in on herself, drained from the magical catharsis full of tears and frustration, and Regina wrapping her up in a tight embrace, refusing to let Emma be alone or succumb to the dark thoughts plaguing her.

3

as you probably gathered from my earlier post, I wasn’t having the best monday. I decided to take out my frustration with a workout and to tackle day 2 of c25k. I managed to go further this time than last time which was a win. also it literally had been raining all day and just as I finished my run the sun came out and the clouds started to clear and I knew it was all going to be okay.

also I’ve been putting some races into perspective for future running goals. I will finish c25k right at the end of april which is when pats run is, so I think I am going to make that my first goal run. and if I keep up where I am now I want to run my first half marathon next january for the pf changs marathon series. If I just commit and don’t give up, these goals are both doable. I just have to stay focused and I can do it. I know I can do it.

i.can.do.it.

6

"So far as explicit but obscured subject is concerned, it is as if an all but unbearable truth had suddenly been brought forward into the light only to be screened by shadows in a condition where the impossibility of seeing clearly is both frustrating and a kind of reprieve. Thus each canvas is an insistent reminder of what one may have forgotten or heretofore successfully avoided paying attention to as well as a refusal to satisfy simple curiosity or the naive satisfactions of supposing that tangible "facts" speak unequivocally for themselves."

Robert Storr ”Sudden Recall” in Gerhard Richter October 18, 1977 [MoMA, 2000]

Paintings: Confrontation 1; Confrontation 2; Confrontation 3; Funeral; Man Shot Down 1; Dead - from October 18, 1977 by Gerhard Richter.