soğuk. yalnızlık insanların özünde. her insan yalnız doğar. soğuk. karanlık gecenin özünde. her gece karanlık insanın içine doğar. soğuk. güzellik kadının özünde. her kadının güzelliği içinde doğar. soğuk. sıcak soğuğun özünde. her insan soğuktan kaçıp sıcağa sığınır. asıl yalnızlık, asıl karanlık, asıl güzellik soğukta. soğuk yaşadığını yüzüne vurur. yaşama hissini içine doldurur.
Why am I lucky in this game, again? My second time getting two 5 stars, two limited characters in a single 10 pulls. Whatt?!?!?! Bladie, man... I got you man!! I use him a lot. And my build isn't so bad. I need Loucha though. I need that man so much. Loucha is equal to Zhongli imo. Though not a shielder he brings comfort in combat.
Made the mistake of starting to watch an Andr*w T*te docu this eve which had to switch away from. Just beyond depressing to think about the damage done widescale. It made me think too of my own brother and how he thinks the world is built against men etc and all that conspiracy theory stuff he was spouting a few months ago. I really hope that isn't the start of a rabbit hole for him but I'm too afraid to ask him more about it. I wouldn't even know how to get on to that conversation now anyway. I'm trying to focus on the positives with my brother and lead with light. I don't think cajoling or lecturing or arguing does anything other than entrench extreme views anyway. It's hard not to get angry about the whole thing. Like, you aren't the first person ever traumatised as a child to have to fight your way to adulthood and work through stuff, there's no need to opt in to misogynistic conspiracy theories. Of all the things to grasp as a comfort blanket, I would literally rather he was a drug addict. It would be easier to be proud of. At 24 years old, I was mature enough to check in with other people. When has he ever checked in with me? I resent being put in this eternal role, I presume simply for being born first... I wish I didn't care at all.
"If it takes you 15 minutes to determine if it's offside or not, it probably doesn't matter… you zoom in, you keep zooming in until you can't zoom in any more, I guess it's offside.”
I wish to undo what people think they know about me.
I want to scrub from their minds the stories they've created to fill the absence of what I can't tell—along with the secrets that may have spilled from my cup when I was too friendly or too lonely to care. Their knowledge of even a thing or two feels like a mark of my existence that I am desperate to erase. Somehow, it feels as though I am sculpted from clichés, lies, and assumptions, so much so that when I look at my hands, I don't feel like myself. I want to undo my existence, to magically vanish from histories, and convince everyone that I am nothing but a figment of their imagination.