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kyndaris · 20 days ago

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Pieces Of Me

It may come as a surprise, dear reader, but I never read The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath while in school. The curriculum for when I was in Years 7 to 12 focused on other hard hitting novels - like Frankenstein - and the various works of one William Shakespeare. Despite this terrifying lack of literary education, I always knew The Bell Jar was one of those books that was highly regarded for its wider impact on society in general. When I did get to finally reading it a couple months ago (at time of posting), the themes explored in such a small novel hit hard.

In Esther Greenwood, and by extension Sylvia Plath herself, I saw elements of me. After all, I, too, am a woman struggling to find my way through life. Though there is a nearly sixty year difference in the times we've lived, many of the societal expectations that coloured Ms Plath's life have continued to impact me. From the pressures of finding a good job to settling down with a man and raising a family. Especially back during my twenties.

The glass jar, it must be said, is certainly an apt metaphor for the suffocation I often feel in my directionless life. Even now, I often struggle with how I see my future unfolding: stuck in a dead-end unfulfilling job, retiring when I hit my 70s and then eking out a means of survival before my inevitable death. That is, of course, if there aren't any nasty surprises which may crop up. Like another pandemic, changes wrought by global warming, or the rise of a new despot on the world stage.

No matter how I slice it, it all looks bleak.

My only solace against the utter despair I feel are the small moments when I get to do things I enjoy. Like reading, writing, playing video games, and socialising with those nearest and dearest to my heart.

And while they aren't perfect, they do bring me a mix of joy, melancholy and everything in-between. It is in these small moments when I actually get to live. Without them, the responsibilities thrust upon me grind against my self-worth, dragging me down into a pit of repressed and impotent anger, apathy and ennui.

The short stories I write, in particular, are often a release valve. They take the disgusting and bad feelings consuming my thoughts and lay it out as words on a page. So when Sorrengail briskly devoured my entire back catalogue of of short stories after we reconnected last year and told me she saw the narratives in them as fairly niche with limited appeal to a wider audience, I can say with confidence that some offence was taken.

As a student of the human condition for goodness-knows-how-many years, I like to think I understand the base emotions most of us go through. After all, I'm no stranger to them. It's all part and parcel of being a living and breathing meatbag. And each of the short stories I've posted online has been an exploration of our darkest moments. Mixed in with the occasional eldritch being or urge to commit homicide.

Gears In The Walls owes much of its inspiration to the rat race we find ourselves in and when our lives become exceedingly routine. Though I had originally planned for it to a poem, it soon spiralled. What was meant to be a few short concise sentences turned into the life and times of a humble bookseller slowly going mad.

Unseen encapsulated my feelings of being ignored. Of being shunted to the side, unable to be seen or heard despite my attempts to draw their attention. People often talk about how being invisible is a great superpower. And, as an introvert, there are moments when I don't mind disappearing from a social event to go read or play video games, but in the long term, being invisible sucks. Having people overlook your achievements to promote someone else? Being the last one to be picked for a team? Feeling like you're on the outside looking in? Or not knowing if anyone would care if you died? These and more are what Unseen is about.

Living the Lie? Suddenly Thirteen? The power of nostalgia and the stories we tell ourselves when we compare the curated images shown on social media to what we believe our own life is like. With Splintered and Whole Again serving as dialogues for what it means to change between the masks one has to wear to appease the people around us.

Then there's Treading Water where I explore my fears of being a micromanager should I ever be a team leader at my place of work. Or The Shadow of Broken Dreams wherein I lay out the loneliness gnawing at me mixed in with all the targeted microaggressions I felt - real or perceived.

Heck, even my novel length stories contain pieces of me. How could they not? The vast majority might be fantasy stories set in a world wholly different from the modern reality we currently inhabit, but the societal commentary are reflections of 21st century Earth. Whether or not I consciously chose to include them or not.

More than that, the characters themselves are either aspects of me or of people I know.

Of course, the one character who was probably the biggest self-insert was Malinda Zhao - the protagonist of Control State. When I was writing, I often had to remind myself I was writing from the third-person perspective rather than first-person. It was so easy to slip into her headspace given how many things we had in common.

That said, Malinda Zhao isn't quite the perfect copy of me. She likes Korean dramas for one, and isn't even a gamer. Plus, I don't feel like she has my street smarts. It takes her longer to clue in on what should be obvious (although, as the author, knowing where the plot might go does help in that regard). Plus, she's the type who likes sappy romance books instead of sprawling fantasy epics!

But as with all things, there are pieces of me scattered in every thing I create. Sometimes it's just a light touch but in others, there's a whole spectrum of my individuality inserted into a piece of work. It is what, I believe, that makes the things I do art. Or, at least I hope it's art in some way.

Given I deal with words, and original works, it can often be hard to gauge the extent of my reach.

It's so much easier to use a visual medium and call it art. After all, you can see the strokes of the digital paintbrush. As well as the end vision.

With creative works like stories? You, dear reader, don't see the sentences or complete passages scratched/ edited out. Nor do you see the process where one might sit in front of a blank page and think of what they want to put down.

The sheer effort being into all of it...and then seeing not one iota of likes or comment? It can be crushing.

In those moments, I often have remind myself to whom I am writing these stories for.

And though it might not suit the tastes of everyone who stumbles across my FictionPress or Wattpad, I write these stories primarily for myself.

For the woman in her early thirties who's trying her best to make her way through the confusing journey called life and leave behind a little of who she is for others to find.

On a side note, I do apologise for the lack of travel posts. Unfortunately, due to circumstances outside of my control, I haven't been able to go on globe-trotting adventures like I would have hoped during the month of March.

Here's hoping 2026 will see more adventures to the various exciting places around the world! Like, I don't know, post-apocalyptic America? Time will tell!

#personal blog #writing #the bell jar #angst #hope and despair #at time of writing I'm playing Trails in the Sky SC #backlog? what backlog?#I'm so behind on my games that I no longer care

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alicewritingstories · 1 year ago

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Febuwhump Day 24: "I'm doing this because I care about you"

CW: Injury, hunger, referenced memory problems

(Loosely) continues Day 16.

AO3

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Link sat on the rock Zelda had sat on a hundred years ago, beside the two little statues Pikango had described as a husband and wife embracing. He personally thought the painter had been employing some artistic license there, but why not? It was better than what he was doing, pretending to be the hero who had stood on this spot, hands sure around the hilt of his legendary sword, occupying himself with drills while he and his princess waited for the rain to stop.

With a sigh, Link tapped the screen of his Slate and looked again at the images Zelda had recorded on it long ago. Three of them now awoke sparks of memory in him. Her sorrowful face on the Lanayru Promenade in the moments before they saw Calamity Ganon rise. Her sadness and pain as she asked him if he could hear the voice of the spirit of his sword. And now her doubts as she sat under this tree and asked him if he could have chosen a different path if he weren't dedicated to the sword and to a future as a knight.

His father - what was his name, Link wondered - had been a knight. He'd wanted to follow in his footsteps. At least he assumed so. He no longer knew what he'd wanted then. What that hero had wanted.

The only thing you were ever told…

He sighed and shifted uncomfortably as his empty stomach rumbled. He'd run out of stored meals the day before and hadn't had a chance to forage and cook more. With another sigh, he took a bite of a raw mushroom. It wasn't filling and did very little for the pain of the swollen, half-healed wound across his thigh that was the reason he'd been traveling so much too slowly and tiring so much faster than he had planned. But it was better than nothing.

Why was he doing this?

He sighed, looking out at the rain. He was hungry. He'd not slept for… two days? Maybe three? His leg hurt. Some distant ghost of memory - the one that had told him what apples were and how to draw and aim a bow - whispered infection in his ear. That… was probably bad. Pain was generally a sign of something bad. But what was he supposed to do about that?

All he knew was this quest. Rhoam, Impa… that was all they could or would tell him about himself. He had been brought into the world for one purpose and one purpose alone: to take the place of their dead hero.

No matter what you thought…

He ate the last bite of mushroom, then looked again at the photos stored on the Slate. Some of them sparked some familiarity now. Most of them were still unfamiliar. He didn't even know what places they showed. Part of a stone building. A statue of a rearing horse. A path through a forest.

He flicked over to the map and started trying to plan his next move. It would take him a day - maybe more - to pick his way to the nearest stable and he would cook something to eat with whatever he managed to find on the way, sate his hunger, heal his wound, maybe nap a little by the campfire, and be off again.

Or maybe he would stay. Truly rest. Spend a few days finding more food. Actually cook something that tasted good rather than throwing together whatever he had to keep body and soul together a little longer. Sleep. That was an option. Why was he doing this? Because a dead old man and an old woman he didn't know and who had no interest in him beyond his sword arm had told him to? Because all he had ever been told for as long as he could remember was that he had to be a hero?

But then he looked again at the rain beyond his sheltered seat. At the little cave and its two statues. He remembered a girl sitting here, speaking sorrowful words of the path onto which she had been forced.

"For you," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper even though there was nobody here to hear him, not even the person he was speaking to. "I'm d-...doing this… b-because I care… about… you."

It was so hard to speak. He wondered if the dead Link had found it easy. If this was yet another way his mind had been turned inside out as he was remade in the Shrine.

It didn't matter.

He would make the slow, painful walk to that stable. He would eat whatever he could throw together, nap as short a time as he could manage, and be off again. Because though he barely remembered her, he still cared about her. She hadn't deserved any of this.

With a wince, he got to his feet and limped out into the rain.

---

(Loosely) continued on Day 29

#febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday24 #breath of the wild link #legend of zelda whump #linked universe whump #lu wild #cw: injury

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skyhighsundae · 2 years ago

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this is probably gonna be long so i'm putting it under a read more.

ok so... life has been VERY crazy lately. needless to say, my mental health tanked really badly & i was struggling with my psychosis to an unlivable point. it made me not want to live, to tell you the truth, so i checked myself into the nearest hospital & spent about 6 days there.

it wasn't the worst experience i've had in one of those places, but it definitely wasn't the best. i met a lot of cool people & i wish the best for them. i'm now on the max dosage of abilify & i'm waiting for it to really take effect as it usually takes about 2 weeks for those meds to work properly. my hallucinations & delusions have decreased significantly, though!

these past few weeks i've really wanted to work on my mental health way more than before, though. not only medication-wise. i've been looking into support groups for diagnoses i have & it's been difficult as there aren't really any schizophrenia support groups in my area, but there are bipolar ones! so i'm thinking about joining one... i just need to take that first step which is scary... it's hard to put myself out there & truthfully i don't know what to expect.

i have some good things coming up in the very near future, however, and i'm doing my best to look forward to them. anime fest is next weekend which i've been excited about since, well, last year lol. expect some cosplay pics because i recently did an ai hoshino cosplay & i'm planning on wearing it saturday of the con!

lastly, i'm done with artfight for the year. drawing my friends ocs was a lot of fun but it's time to focus on healing. i'll probably still draw for fun though as that's one of my main coping mechanisms. i also wanna post some art i did in the hospital. yeah... that's about it, i think! here's to a healthier latter half of the year!

#bun talk

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lunartflare64 · 2 years ago

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I did it. I made an OC to be Leonora's GF. The shipper in me wouldn't let her get away with being a disaster lesbian without a GF. So here is the other disaster lesbian, Julie! Personality and background under the cut! (Be warned, I ramble)

So! Julie! She's a year older than Leo, making her 19 to our girl Nora's 18, and an artist

Julie cut off contact with her parents when she was 14 (they sucked), and two years later she found herself mutated, and since her roommate has a green keel-bellied lizard...she got stuck with bright blue-green scales and a pretty long tail

It sucked those first few months, obviously, but she was already kinda a hermit, and what's done is done, so she wanted to focus more on finding what her new normal looked like

Weirdly enough, very few mutants were content to live semi-normal lives, mutant communities were very.....combat focused. Even if Julie was interested in fighting, her tail would give her a massive learning curve, so.......no, that's not happening

So how will she contribute to the mutant community? Well, tattoos don't really stick around through the mutation, and getting tattoos the regular way doesn't really work well (fur and scales don't cooperate with tattoo guns, and that's before you take into consideration things like shedding), so she'll focus on bringing tattoos to the mutant community! Luckily her roommate (a biologist in college) took her mutation well and is happy to help figure out how to make that actually possible

Its not just tattoos, she learns how to do a wide variety of piercings and body mods, her only limit being actual surgery (she has a strong stomach but not that strong). She believes its important to give these options to mutants, its not mandatory, but if a mutant decides they want to have fun with their form, have control over how they look, then they see a future with their mutated body. Its acceptance. The majority of them didn't choose to be this way, but now that its done they should have the chance to have fun with it, should they want that

Outside of her new career, Julie has found a love of parkour. It started out as something she did for convenience, since the rooftops are safer to travel on for mutants than the road is, but it turns out the species she was mutated from are super big on climbing, so when she's feeling particularly pent-up, scaling the nearest skyscraper is the ideal workout for her

I haven't quite worked out how Julie met Leo yet, but Leo's siblings weren't there for it. They had no idea about Julie for the first few weeks, and even after they found out their sister was seeing someone they still didn't meet her for a while after that. Leo hasn't really had many opportunities to have a life completely separate from her siblings, and she loves them, but Julie was a breath of fresh air. Aaaand Leo wanted to keep her GF to herself for as long as her nosy siblings would allow.

Julie is a pretty smart person on her own, she started one of the first "mutant" businesses, of course she's smart. And no matter how chill she is, she likes to stick to her schedules. But with Leo......that all kinda goes out the window. For both of them. Their braincells cancel each other out and suddenly they're staring at a livestream of a goldfish tank for three hours straight.

It has it's downsides, schedules fall to pieces after they start dating, everyone hates it, but it also gives them the rare opportunity to just...forget their responsibilities. And since neither of them do that ever, anyone who plans on interfering with it is gonna find waaaay too many ninjas in their house the next night

Okay, I thiiiink I'm done rambling about Julie. For now. Time to give my wrists a break, and then I can move on and start drawing these dumb lesbians, I love them so much

#tmnt 2012 #tmnt oc #julie the green keel-bellied lizard #leonardo #trans leo #transfem leo #leonora #what will their ship name be?#juleo? julio? fuck google says both of those are things #junora? google isnt giving me much of anything for that #look i just dont want to drop my oc/canon ship in someones small tag thats a mortifying concept to me #maybe leolie? that seems fine #leolie

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zenith-impact · 4 years ago

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Landslide - Part One

Master List

Read on AO3 here!

If you wish to be added to the tag list, please let me know!

Part Two

It was raining the day Hu Tao brought home the gift that would change your life forever.

You'd been staring out the window for far too long, too distracted to work but too stressed to leave your desk. All the books you needed were spread out over the bed. You had periodically swapped between them, searching for the one that would grab your attention the most. Unfortunately, none of them did despite all the work you had to do, and you found yourself wondering how much harder it would rain before the night was done. A part of you worried for Hu Tao whose shift at the local funeral parlor had gone far later than it was supposed to. Hopefully she'd gotten some kind of ride before things got too bad.

You sighed, rubbing your eyes and resisting the urge to drop your head onto your desk. You were so tired, yet your heart was pounding and your muscles were shaking with sleepy energy. It wasn't fair, truly. If you had gotten your second wind an hour or so ago you likely would have finished everything by now. Or, at the very least, you'd see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Your phone rang with a simple message: ‘On my way home. Chongyun's got me :)’. You sighed with relief and glanced back down at your book. History. One of your favorite subjects but also the one that was currently giving you the most trouble. How did one sum up the entire history of someone like Rex Lapis into three pages? You couldn't even discuss his role in the Archon war in that short of time! You groaned, slumping in your seat. You were usually so good at this stuff, but you were just ready to be done.

Thunder crashed above your head. You looked back out the window, watching the droplets chase each other down the glass. Maybe you should just go to bed. You had a couple of weeks before all your projects were due. Besides, Hu Tao would admonish you for working so hard on your first day of this extended spring break. So, you stood up and stretched, closing your book as you wandered back into the living room. A bright red wall covered in various pictures was the first thing you saw, followed by the brown that complimented it. The furniture was a mix of grays that Hu Tao had gotten from thrift shops nearby but the television was suitably large for two college kids. Hu Tao had chosen the colors long before you moved in, but you found it rather charming. Over the months, her artwork had been replaced by more of your choices and pictures of you together with your other friends, all people she introduced you to. You two were the oldest of the group with her friends having just started their freshman year of college one semester ago. You were a senior and incredibly nervous about it. Without much of a plan and nowhere else to go, you just assumed you'd keep your job as a local barista and go from there. Hu Tao wasn't in any rush to kick you out and you weren't in any rush to leave.

You’d figure it out… eventually.

The door swung open the moment you turned on the television. Hu Tao waltzed in, grinning as she put a box onto the coffee table. "Hold on," She said as she walked into her room and slammed the door closed. She emerged only a few seconds later in athletic clothing with a red blanket over her arm. "Much better."

"Welcome home," You said.

"Thank you, thank you," Hu Tao giggled. "I know you missed me."

You rolled your eyes. "You're right. I'll never get used to the peace and quiet."

She laughed as she plopped down beside you and reached for the box. "I have a surprise!" She handed it to you with a proud look on her face. "Took me forever to find something like this. And it didn't come cheap!"

You peered at the box. "You didn't have to…"

"Nonsense," Hu Tao said with a wave of her hand. "I left you alone on your birthday!"

"That was like… weeks ago."

"Just open it."

You did, surprised to find a brown and yellow puzzle you'd only seen in history books. A stone dumbbell rumored to have been created by Rex Lapis's love, Guizhong. Historians had only recently learned of it through old texts and drawings and it had become quite popular in the last few years. The unbreakable puzzle, many called it, though the toys and replicas were pretty easy to crack. "A replica?" You said.

"Found it at a thrift shop!" She said, "The clerk said it's more of a decoration than a puzzle, but I thought you'd like it."

"Where are we going to put it?"

"Wherever you want!" Hu Tao laughed again.

When you touched it, a sharp pain shot up your arm. You flinched, pulling away. A quiet voice echoed around you - That won’t be necessary - but it went silent as quick as it came.

“Are you alright?” Hu Tao said.

"I'm… fine?" You said. "That was… weird." You reached for it a second time as another voice spoke - We could always spar - but it too went quiet as you lifted the puzzle out of the box. It was surprisingly heavy, much more than any replica you'd ever held. You swore it was shimmering in the dim lights and you wondered what it would look like in the sun.

"It's… nice,” You said. “We could put it somewhere in here if you want. Maybe on the…”

Mr. Zhongli?

You groaned, as pain shot through your entire body. The puzzle clattered to the floor, but the agony didn't recede. If anything, it got worse. You felt Hu Tao’s hand on your own, but it wasn’t enough to drag you back. A pair of blue eyes flickered into your view followed by a deep voice you didn’t recognize. You couldn't understand what he was saying. “Stay with me!” Hu Tao yelled, but you couldn’t hear her as you felt yourself slip away.

Zhongli would like to think he had it all together. But when he looked at himself with an unbiased eye, he knew that wasn’t the case. He had a job he was happy with, despite his boss’s rather… eccentric behavior. He had friends, though they, too, were unorthodox considering one was a Fatui Harbinger that just didn't seem to ever go away. He was stable now that he’d finally gotten a handle on saving Mora instead of frivolously spending it on anything that struck his fancy. He had his own apartment. A vintage tea set. Hand crafted furniture. Connections with other adepti. But Zhongli kept feeling like he was missing something. Something important. Something about the human experience that was eluding him; another puzzle he had yet to solve despite Hu Tao and Childe's best efforts. As much as he loved hearing some version of the phrase "You're just too boring", Zhongli had a feeling that wasn't it.

Today, he'd left the funeral parlor with a frown on his face and contemplation in his heart. Hu Tao had been surprisingly distracted today, possibly by the influx of funerals coming in the near future. The winter had been harsh for Liyue, but things were looking up going into spring. Zhongli was confident that the people would recover better than ever, just as they had when he'd first given up his gnosis a year ago. But he was stagnating, of that he was certain. But how did one solve such a problem?

"Mr. Zhongli!"

He looked up, unsurprised to see Childe waving at him from across the street. The Harbinger had been away for a while, but reappeared in Liyue eager to restart a tentative friendship. Zhongli was certain Childe was just looking for a fight, but they were cordial with each other despite Zhongli's avoidance on the matter. Today, Childe was wearing his usual white attire, red scarf, and mask on the side of his head, but he also had on a fur coat that had not been made anywhere near the streets of Liyue. A homeparting gift, Zhongli assumed. It wasn’t chilly enough to make it usable, yet Childe was beaming with pride. “Long time no see!”

“You came to my home just yesterday, Childe.”

“Day before, actually.”

“And yesterday morning.”

“Oh did I?” Childe hummed. “Guess I forgot about that one.”

You're right. I'll never get used to the peace and quiet.

Zhongli paused, glancing at Childe. The latter was already talking about what food he wanted to eat. Besides, the voice was nothing like his, though it was strange the way it stood out from the cacophony of other sounds.

Where are we going to put it?

Zhongli frowned but it was Childe who spoke again. “Distracted today, hm?” Azure eyes sparkled with amusement as the two weaved their way through the crowd.

“It has been an exceedingly busy day,” Zhongli said as they met up again.

Childe laughed. “Is that so? I suppose that makes two of us.”

Wherever you want!

“What do you want, Childe?” Zhongli said abruptly, trying to ignore the dread in the pit of his stomach. Something was very clearly wrong, he just didn’t know what.

Childe whistled. “You really are out of it, huh? Was planning on taking my friend to dinner. My treat.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“We could spar instead,” Childe said with a cheeky grin. “That’ll get the blood pumping.”

“I would rather not,” Zhongli said. Childe chuckled and launched into another long tirade about something that wasn’t entirely important. Zhongli listened, but only half-heartedly. That voice kept tugging on his mind, asking questions he couldn’t comprehend. It was… distracting at best. Concerning at worst. He assumed his exhaustion had gotten the best of him; nothing that some tea and a good night’s rest couldn’t fix.

Suddenly, nausea washed over him. He grunted, stumbling toward the nearest wall. Childe’s concern was drowned out by the pounding of his heart in his head. Zhongli’s vision flickered, and he found himself staring into the eyes of Hu Tao. “Are you alright?” She said, but her voice was far away. Zhongli tried to speak, but when he blinked again, it was Childe there, hand on Zhongli’s arm and face filled with concern.

“Mr. Zhongli?”

“I’m…” Another blink and he was back with Hu Tao in a colorful room he didn’t recognize. He tried to look around, but his body was locked in place, staring at her with his mouth open. Confusion swept over him mingled with a strange sense of horror that wasn’t quite his own. Things seemed to blend together; the dark hues of Liyue bled into the room. Hu Tao’s eyes mixed with Childe’s. Two different voices mingled together into one blob that made his head pound. A terrified yelp echoed in his mind, but it was gone in an instant.

Everything snapped into focus as he heard Hu Tao call a name he didn’t recognize. “Stay with me!” She said. Her clothes were strange. Her voice wasn’t quite right. Everything was off just slightly and Zhongli couldn’t explain why. And when he opened his eyes again, that same, colorful room appeared. The light was dim and the sound of rain pounded against the windows.

Hu Tao gasped. “Your eyes… What happened?”

Zhongli pushed up to steady himself. He froze when he realized his hands were much smaller. His clothes were lighter, his jacket replaced by a simple t-shirt and pants swapped with loose fitting shorts. His feet - also a lot smaller - were bare. “I… I don’t know.” He said, his throat dry and cracking. Hu Tao rushed away, returning with a cup of water. Zhongli took a drink, watching her. She, too, was dressed far too strange. Her normal attire was replaced with clothes similar to his own. Her skin was a few shades paler, but everything else was the same, right down to her flower-shaped pupils and long hair. She called that name again, and Zhongli felt his muscles shake.

“I don’t believe I am who you are looking for,” he said, but even his voice was not his own.

Then, everything went dark.

Tag List: @sprayio, @kimura-uzuri

#genshin impact #genshin impact long-fic #genshin impact zhongli #genshin impact xiao #genshin impact reader #zhongli #reader #childe #hu tao #landslide #modern AU #reincarnation au #body swap

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chocolatte-and-despair · 4 years ago

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Can I ask for a Danganganronpa mash-up (from the second game preferable!). I'm a (demisexual) trans guy, with short spiky hair, a height of about 168 centimeters despite my age. Let's start with traits; I'm quite open to a kind of people, don't judge things. I'm neutral to most things, nor often I don't know if I'm emotionless or just a rock. It's not that I don't smile and all that...I usually put some odd facade that worries me, in a good way. When I know that I can trust someone I can attach to them. Nor, my trust isn't what others can get so easy. I have some trust issues, sometimes distancing myself. I can have no motivation at all, and say everything is meaningless. People in my family and the nearest environment usually completely ignored or mocked me. But I was feeling more like people who tell me to trust them broke that belief.

I can secretly give people chances, not telling them. Can come off as mean if I think someone doesn't care what I talk about, more like treat me like trash. Or, sometimes I just assume things, because inside I'm emotional. But I m good at comforting people, myself not. My self-esteem is low, not about look but what I represent to myself. Sometimes all sadness goes with me for months, it makes me feel at ease, I don't know anything else. I say a similar way to gingham with metaphors, but not quite.

Nor, aside from my hobbies are animating, drawing, writing poetry. I don't really like sports besides hiking, ice cream, and aggression. That's all.

After thinking for a little bit, I decided to give you ... Peko Pekoyama! Because you both seem to be very similar to one another in personality, I feel like you two would be perfect for one another!

A . How would they show their love and affection? How intense would it get? - Peko would be pretty cold and distant with you, at least, around other people, but when you two are alone, she never shy away from giving you some sort of affection, to try and make you understand that she loves you,

B. What type of future are they planning with their lover? - Peko doesn't want to think much about her future. Her job could end up with her getting killed and she doesn't want to give you false hope.

C. What is the scariest moment with them? - Peko is very strong and she has threatened your life many times just to try and get you to stay with her forever.

D. How do they usually act with their lover? - Peko is very protective over you. She usually barely talks with you, but she's always by your side, ready to eliminate anyone who she thinks might be a threat.

E. How would they court their lover before? - Peko would probably start following you around whenever she can, protecting you and scaring everyone from you.

F. What's their favorite memory/thing in the relationship? - Peko adores how you look whenever you're safe and relaxed. Just.. It reminds her that her work is not for nothing.

#yandere danganronpa imagines #yandere imagines #danganronpa imagines #yandere danganronpa headcanons #yandere headcanons #danganronpa headcanons #yandere danganronpa #yandere #peko pekoyama #yandere peko pekoyama

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wr1t3-my-wr0ngs · 5 years ago

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Good Soldiers - chapter 4/4

Remembering Yesterday’s Tomorrow (In the Here and Now): Part 4 COMPLETED

Rex isn't happy with resorting to Plan B, however, he's not surprised that Plan A didn't work out. Disappointed, but he knew that it was a long shot getting a Jedi to intervene.

At least Plan B has the benefit of working before, but it will still be a bloodbath. Not even the best of troops can hope to match an armed and trained force user, and it's not vanity when he says that his men are the best.

He felt like a cheat when he had described the plan earlier.

"We lead him to the nearest Vixus."

"You want us to go near one of those things on purpose?"

Rex couldn't blame the men for their incredulity, not after one of the creatures had nearly eaten almost every person in the room only hours before. He's not exactly thrilled at going near the sarlac-like thing either. But they aren't fast enough to take Krell in a fair fight, not with his four lightsabers and absolute willingness to maim anyone in his path. (Too many limbs, too much speed, too little empathy.)

Every word from his lips felt like a lie, a stolen idea that he parroted as his own. In a way, they were. It had been Tup who had thought of using the Vixus to capture Krell, a stroke of genius that had ended a horrific fight, and it grates that Rex can’t give the trooper the recognition he deserves.

"What the Captains trying to say, " Fives chimed in after watching Rex flounder for a moment. "Is that we need this to be on our terms. He's not going to come quietly if he is a traitor."

Rex nodded, both in thanks and in confirmation.

"If you think you have a shot, take it. The faster the fight is over, the better it will be for everyone, but we need to aim to arrest him if possible."

"And if we can't?"

"Have your recorders on and let the bastard incriminate himself."

In true GAR fashion, the plan had spread like wildfire, and soon enough, every last soldier knew their task.

Rex hardly needs to issue the orders, but he does anyway, following the formalities because he knows that, despite what General Skywalker may sometimes claim, appearances and regulations do count.

The ride up the tower is quiet, and from the corner of his eye, Rex can see a few of the younger troops nervously adjust the grip on their blasters. He has to fight the urge to fidget or even reach up and place a hand over his ring, doing his best to project confidence for both the men and himself.

Krell is waiting for them, facing the window, one set of hands clasped behind his back.

"CT-7567, explain yourself."

Rex readies his blasters, switching off the safeties and aims at the Besalisk.

"Pong Krell, you are under arrest for treason against the Grand Army of the Republic and the Galactic State which it serves. Do you comply peacefully?"

Krell turns, malice written in his face and eyes.

"You know, I'm surprised you were able to figure it out for a clone. Tell me, when did you first suspect?"

Rex ignores the question, refusing to be goaded by the man before him any more than he already has.

"Do you comply?" He puts more force into his words than before, using a tone of voice he would never dare to use on a commanding officer.

Krell looks around, almost lazily, and takes in the various troopers - all with blasters pointed his direction – and smiles in a way that is anything but friendly.

"You think you can stop me, Captain? I have trained for more years then you have been alive, and I will not be stopped me some creature bread in a tube."

Without further preamble, Krell pushes out with the Force, sending every trooper slamming into the walls. Those unfortunate enough to have stayed on their feet during the assault are quickly cut down by the blue-green pair of saber staffs, and Rex watches from his place on the ground as the fallen Jedi jumps out the window.

He scrambles to his feet and rushes out the door, brushing past medics on their way in to try and stabilize those they can. He does not envy them their job, one which he knows will only get harder the longer Krell goes unattended to.

The sound of boots fills the night air as soldiers pour from the base and onto the hard pavement of the airfield. Krell is nowhere in sight, but the evidence of his departure lies scattered on the ground.

Passing the bodies that litter the ground outside the airbase doors, Rex has to swallow past the rising bile as he takes in his brothers: some still breathing, others lifeless. He charges on more determined than before, no time to pause the pursuit and tell the living from the dead before crashing into the underbrush.

The forest is quiet and incredibly dark, the helmets night vision thrown off by the red glow of the bioluminescent trees.

"Does anyone have a visual?"

"Negative Captain, he's —"

The sound of a lightsaber crackles through the comms, the distinctive hiss as it cauterizes and cuts, distorted and warped by the tiny speakers.

"You should have kept quiet, Captain."

The back of Rex's neck tingles as Krells' voice echoes around the landscape, seeming to come from all directions, shifting on a nonexistent wind.

"You've led them to slaughter in a fool's errand. I have seen the future Captain, your life, and that of every clone is expendable. You and your so-called brothers: specialized rats bread in a lab for just one reason. The Jedi will fall, and in its place, a new order will rise and rule. Yet you rebel in a misguided notion of liberty, and now your men will pay the price."

Displayed on his hud, Rex can see the blinking light of the recorder, and even though he hopes it won't come to it, they need a back up should Dogma fail to reach General Kenobi. He keeps Krell talking, shouting into the eerie red nothingness, turning all directions in the hopes of catching sight of the six-limbed man.

"You're a Separatist?"

Krell's laugh is merciless.

"Not hardly, I serve none but myself. But soon, I shall reap the rewards, and my new master will grant me a seat of power in the Empire that shall arise."

A twig snaps from somewhere above their heads, and it's all the warning Rex and his men get before Krell is in their midst, dual staffs slashing without remorse, skillfully dodging every shot aimed his way. Rex is too busy firing his blasters, shouting for his men not to get too close, to stay out of lightsaber range, to notice at first. Eventually, he hears the shout of his name, and the Captain spots one of the men signaling to something on the ground roughly fifty yards away. Despite his dread and increasing panic, he grins to himself, and relays the information into the comms, alerting all units to draw Krell his way.

Navigating the vine limbs of the Vixus proves challenging, especially with the Besalisk hot on his tail. He should have known that things were going too smoothly, should have expected that something would go wrong (and it makes him sick to his stomach to think, however briefly, that the death of so many of his brothers is according to plan). When it happens, it stirs up disappointed resignation and panic in equal measure. Time seems to slow as his foot catches on something, and he watches the rapidly approaching ground in horror, twisting at the last second to avoid landing face first atop his blasters.

His blunder is all it takes for Krell to be on him, lightsabers baring down with unnatural swiftness. With the adrenaline coursing through his veins, Rex freezes, and he can feel the heat of the green blade through his neck gasket as it flies toward its target. He should move, or fire a shot -anything- instead, his thoughts drift to Ahsoka.

Her skin set aglow by the light of a dying fire beneath a star-studded sky; dirt-covered and sweaty, kneeling next to him as they sew seeds on Lothal; graceful in battle, twisting through the air, elegant and lethal and incredibly kind.

All at once, the heat from the blade disappears and time reasserts itself, leaving the Captain momentarily disoriented until he can process the slashing of sabers far overhead as Krell battles against the vine wrapped around his waist. There is no time to berate himself for either his blunder or for freezing up, and he shoots to his feet, blasters drawn and firing.

Around him, his men are doing the same, some aiming at Krell while others aim for the flailing arms of the Vixus as it attempts to grab anything within reach. Undercutting the din of battle, Rex can make out the tell-tail click of blasters being switched from stun to kill, can feel the increase of energy electrify the air like an oncoming storm. A shot fires and between one heartbeat and the next, Krell is falling, having managed to sever a limb and free himself.

He hits the ground hard, and the shooting ceases, soldiers approaching with a careful tread, ready for the Besalisk to spring up. Instead, Krell lets out a ragged cough into the dirt, and Rex cautiously approaches, DeeCees at the ready, and carefully rolls the fallen Jedi onto his back. Blood gurgles from Krell's chest where a blaster bolt made its home in a lung, whether intentionally placed or a mistake is unclear and, frankly, Rex doesn’t care.

Krell has moments left, and the Captain is seized with the need to make eye contact with the force user one last time. Slowly, he kneels and pulls off his bucket, taking a moment to make sure he has the Besalisks attention.

"I've lived your future, " he whispers, quiet enough that the various recorders can't pick it up. "It doesn't last."

It is satisfying to watch Krell's face fall as he searches the force, feels the veracity of Rex's statement— Realizes that for all his gifts and abilities, a clone knows more than him. Satisfying to know that its the last thought he will ever have.

Words form on the force users' lips, but all that comes out is a cough followed by a rattling breath and then - nothing.

Everyone is quiet for a moment, as the enormity of what just happened registers with the gathered troops. Some take off their helmets, most simply stare in shock. It doesn’t last long; the area is still a live war zone, and all too soon, the sound of steadily approaching enemy bombardment draws everyone from their stupor.

Rex pulls on his helmet and orders everyone back to base. It takes some time, now that they aren’t running after the Besalisk - longer than it usually would have, considering they are hauling Krell’s corpse and the numerous wounded with them. Some of the men had wanted to leave him where he lay, claim that it had been lost in the darkness and confusion of the planet. But the Captain hadn’t wanted to risk being ordered to send anyone out on a retrieval mission. Didn’t want to risk losing more men over the fallen Jedi.

No one speaks as they trudge through the dark landscape, and in the pressing silence, one thought relentlessly hammers away inside the Captains mind:

What now?

His instincts still tell him that this isn't a dream, and Rex is still inclined to trust them. But with his mind no longer occupied with the survival of his men and himself, the doubts that had reared their head when he had woken have returned. Is this death? If so, what does it mean for him now that Umbara is over? Or if it's a dream? Or, even more daunting, what if it's not? What if, by some insane occurrence, its exactly what he thinks it is?

He’s no closer to an answer by the time they reach the base, and in his meditative state, he almost misses the arrival of General Kenobi’s transport.

“Captain!”

Rex has to work to keep his face impassive, even as he salutes (its a different kind of pain seeing Kenobi again then it was from seeing his brothers. Less piercing, more bittersweet, aching like a day-old bruise that you can’t help touching, just to make sure it's still there).

“General,”

“I would ask what’s so urgent that you would send a trooper to collect me in the middle of a delicate campaign, but your man was very thorough in his explanation.”

Behind the Jedi, Rex can make out Dogma - a little cut up and bloodied but in one piece - side-eyeing the trooper next to him. Rex’s heart stops for a moment as he takes in the distinctive orange paint of his batchmate. He should have known that where General Kenobi goes, Cody would follow, but somehow it hadn’t clicked. (Cody shifts and Dogma nervously straightens. There’s a story there, and Rex resolves to get it later —if there is a later).

If Obi-Wan notices the Captain's momentary discomfort, he doesn't say anything.

“We had hoped that you might have been able to assist us in dealing with Krell.”

“I see.” The Jedi pauses for a moment, taking the time to really look at Rex. His next words are terribly kind, and the clone's heart swells with affection for the man.

“How are your men, Captain?”

He thinks of Dogma, the betrayal and the pain that he knows the rookie must still be dealing with, thinks of his own distress at watching Krell cut down brother after brother and chooses his words carefully, voice low.

“We lost a fair number in the fight, and I think the men are more shaken they would like to admit.”

Obi-wan looks sad at the confession but nods understandingly.

“And Krell?”

“Dead, Sir.”

Someone comes up beside him; he's not sure who, but judging by the sound of the footfalls, he thinks its either Jesse or Fives. Looking confirms that its the former.

“Report?”

“All men accounted for, Sir. Wounded are being taken care of now.”

Rex nods.

“Get some rest; you've all earned it.”

Kenobi waits for Jesse to leave before he picks up the conversation.

“Who fired the shot?”

Truthfully, he doesn’t know. In the chaos and confusion, the blaster fire had blurred together. But it was his mission, his orders that the men followed, his responsibility. His fault.

“I did, sir.”

Obi-Wan sighs, looking pained, and Rex understands. A General is dead, an act that cannot go unseen to, regardless of if the general was corrupt or not —there must be a hearing.

"I'm sorry, Captain, but I'm afraid I have to place you under arrest."

Rex nods solemnly.

Appearances and Regulations, his mind supplies, and as much as he doesn't like it, he would rather it be him who takes the brunt of a Court Marshal than any of his brothers. Something he had taken into account when he had first come up with his plan.

Kenobi nods to one of his men, who steps forward with a pair of cuffs.

"Those won't be necessary, will they Captain?"

Mild amusement flickers through Rex at Obi-Wans tone, and he flashes a brief smirk at the General, who, despite the regret etched on his face, has an answering twinkle of humor in his eyes.

"No, Sir."

The trooper shrugs and puts away the restraining devices then reaches out and relieves the Captain of his DeeCees's, before leading him by the elbow toward the tower and the brig.

Behind him, the General calls out.

“We’ll get you out of this, Rex.”

He doesn't need to ask who “we” is.

----

Despite the exhaustion that has settled in his bones, Rex spends his first hour in the brig with his head in his hands, sedately running them over his buzzed hair. Various people stop by, sometimes offering updates, sometimes to provide words of support. They don’t stay for long, recognizing the fatigue, and leave the clone to himself. As a result, he doesn’t look up right away when he hears a set of boots approaching. What does make him look is the sound of his cell door opening, and he is just in time to see Fives, dressed in his blacks and some of his armor, walk-in before shutting the door.

"Hey, " the goateed man greets, walking over to the bunk and sliding down the cell wall, sitting on the ground.

"Hey." Rex returns.

They sit quietly for a few moments, both worn and weary from the horrors of the past 24 hours, the sound of their breathing echoing slightly off the walls.

"I didn't think anyone was allowed inside the cell."

Fives huffs in what could be amusement.

"I don't think anyone is taking your confinement too seriously after what Krell put us through. Pretty sure they would let you out for a walk as long as you have supervision."

They both laugh without much heart before lapsing back into a silence that seems to be building a soft sort of anticipation — a tension, not unpleasant or overwhelming, but constant and steady. The seconds stretch into minutes, all the while the anticipation builds, culminating in a sigh from Fives.

"I believe you."

Rex, arms resting on his legs, looks at his little brother.

"I can't explain it, but —” the ARC trooper shakes his head as if doing so will set his thoughts straight — “you know things. Things you shouldn't have been able to know. And I can't put my finger on it, but you're different, smile more but at the same time are so...sad."

He looks at Rex.

"And I don't know what it is or what it could be, but we've seen some crazy shit together. Dying and coming back to the past is as good an explanation as any. So, I believe you."

Rex doesn't know what to say, doesn't think they are words in basic or mando'a that can encapsulate the affection and love he feels for his brother. He settles for a smile, and it's probably wan and maybe a little teary, but he hopes it can say what he can't.

"Thank you." He tries, and the ARC Trooper nods, smiling back.

Fives eyes catch on something on Rex's person, and the blonde watches as his brother's face goes from understanding to curious.

"What have you got there?"

Rex looks down and sees his wedding band, still attached to the chain, in his hand. It's an old habit, fiddling with it when thinking or just bored, and he hadn't realized he'd started playing with it until his brother had pointed it out.

"Is that a ring?" Fives sounds positively gleeful, and he pulls himself up onto the cot, seating himself practically in Rex's lap to get a better look.

"It is!"

"Get off–!"

It takes some effort, removing Fives from his lap, and it almost dumps both of them on the floor in the process. In the end, they both stay on the bed, Fives leaning far too close into Rex's personal space.

"I didn't think you were the jewelry type."

"For the right person, I am."

He's said too much if the unholy grin spreading across his brother's face is any indicator. He would be more upset at his slipup, if it weren't for the matching grin, he can feel on his own face and the lightness in his heart he hadn't expected to feel for weeks.

"What kind of person could be crazy enough to catch your eye?"

"Watch your tongue, that's my wife you're talking about."

Fives' face is priceless as he processes Rex's words and their implications, and Rex can't help himself. The laughter that bubbles out of him feels both freeing and wrong; Wrong after all that happened, when so many of his brothers lay dead, after so much loss; Freeing, to know that he still can, that despite everything he did, Krell couldn't take this from him.

And he knows his vod'ika has a million questions, can see them flitting about behind golden eyes. He prepares himself for the onslaught when Fives opens his mouth, only for the question to be transformed into a jaw cracking yawn.

Rex shakes his head, amused and fond.

"Get some sleep, Fives."

His brother looks like he's about to protest when a second yawn overcomes him and grudgingly concedes the point.

Fives stands, one finger pointed at Rex.

"I want answers.”

"Later, " Rex promises, all but shoving his brother out of the cell. "Sleep well, Vod."

The door closes with an electric hum, and Rex makes his way back to the bunk.

Exhaustion claims him the second his head touches the pillow, and all too soon, he finds himself falling asleep.

He keeps falling...

Falling...

Falling through blood and death, the noise of battle raging around him. It is a kaleidoscope of sound and color, screams, and blasters blurring together until it's impossible to tell the sound of his voice apart from the bark of his DeeCees. Through it all, he spirals from battle to battle: the heat and sand of Geonosis, his armor still unpainted and new; to the frozen moon of Pantora, snow gear frosted over and growing heavier with each passing minute; the choking taste of the Blue Shadow Virus, each breath harder to take than the last, until all at once, his feet hit the deck, sending shock racing up his calves and spine.

The ambient noise of the star destroyer is defining after the chaos of the battles, the hum of hyperspace hardy even background to the ringing in his ears.

He can hear himself speaking, but it's without his permission, his words and actions separate from his thoughts.

“Yes, Lord Sidious.”

No, his mind screams, and within the confines of his own body, he rails against the inhibitor chip. No, he screams as the doors open, and he pulls out his blasters, leveling them at the young and confused face of Ahsoka Tano. He fights harder, thrashing against the walls of his skin, will be damned if he lets the order take him without a fight. Find him. Find him. Fives. Find him! FIVES!

Its a battle unlike any other, waged against himself, the most important in his life. But he cannot hold out, cannot win, and at the end of things, he fails. Mind exhausted and worn, he loses what little control he had scraped together, pulls the trigger. The programming takes over, and Rex can do nothing but watch as he and his men fire volley after volley at the former Jedi. Locked in the deepest corner of his own mind, he can only pray that they don’t find her as they comb the ship. Silently weeps when she steps out, distracted from the droids behind him long enough for the electricity to coarse through his body - vision going white.

The light spreads, at first cold and sharp, but soon enough gives way to the soft yellow glow of the morning sun filtered through closed eyes.

He's roused by the sensation of fingers lazily dancing over an exposed hip.

"Morning."

Her voice is light and playful, and he takes a moment to grin into the pillow before opening his eyes and looking behind him.

In the light of dawn, with the sheets pooled around her waist and sleep shirt slipping down one shoulder, she looks like an angel: her blue eyes sparkle, and the sound of birds caries through the open window.

"Morning."

He rolls over to face her, and she combs her fingers through his beard, eliciting a smile at the sensation.

“We slept in, didn’t we?” his voice rumbles in his chest. Beside him, Ahsoka hums, lips pulled up in a grin. There is a glint of mischief in her eyes that holds the promise of something more, coy and inviting, and no small amount exciting.

"Just a little."

“Then we better get up,”

He can’t hide the smile in his voice, but two can play at this game. Rex sits up and makes a show of stretching - careful not to look at her or else lose his resolve- and he can feel her eyes on him, searing into his skin. In his mind's eye, he pictures her smile growing, teeth bared, and cheeks dimpled. A quick peak confirms his suspicion.

“Long day ahead of us, can’t start if we’re still in bed.”

She slides up next to him, turning his face toward hers with a delicate finger, one of her white eyebrow marks raised in challenge.

"Is that so?"

Her grin is infectious as she settles herself across his hips in a fluid motion, her head tails swaying with the movement. He brings both hands up to her waist both to steady her and to hold her close, thumbs running gentle circles over ochre skin.

"Prove it, Captain."

She leans in and kisses him, slow and deep, and he lets his hands wander underneath her shirt. Over soft skin and up, following the dips and curves of her body, feeling the strength hidden there. Her hands wander in turn, roaming over his chest and arms, slipping under the waistband of his sleep pants. He can feel her tremble oh so slightly under his touch, muscles coiled with anticipation. It spurs his hands higher, fingertips ghosting over sensitive flesh, cupping a -

A loud bang jolts him into consciousness, and Rex instinctively reaches for the warm body that should be there with him. Instead, his hands find nothing but air, and it takes him a moment to process the too harsh lighting and hard metal bunk, the hum of the energy shield that separates his cell from the rest of the room.

For the second time in as many days, Rex's mind must grapple with waking up after expecting to never do so again. But for the first time, he has more than an instinct or a gut feeling to go off of. He's in the same room, the same place as he remembers last being, has two sets of memories for how yesterday went down, and it pushes the few doubts he had left about his reality from his mind.

The future as he remembers it plays out in his mind's eye, and the question from earlier pushes to the forefront:

What now?

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marias-studyblr · 8 years ago

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What should I do when I want to go explore the world and make art and write and meet people and learn new things but instead I'm stuck in a basement in a small town writing a paper on the Roman empire because I'm not old enough to live by myself?

You gotta be patient.

Young people have to be patient.

I understand what you’re saying and I feel it myself, we’ve all felt it. The answer is there are a lot of good reasons young people stay at home, in school. I’m not saying the whole educational system is perfect at all, but the basic thing is there - learning how to think for yourself, learn how to live in a society, with people around you, how to speak, interact with each other, learn the basic sciences, history, literature and political principles. It’s basically an introduction to what we have built our life as a society to be.

Writing a paper in history sucks for the people who were never taught how to appreciate history because of the educational system or because of bad teachers, basically (it’s not your fault!! - by the way watch this video maybe you’ll find the Roman empire more interesting).

The school system in the hard periods gives us those very well known existential crisis. It’s building your character. A lot give up, a lot persevere. There are examples of people who live happily and unhappily on both sides. A lot of people talk about how the educational system has to be completely reformed and how there are so many things wrong with it.

I give thanks that we have one, with a quality much higher compared to the ones that teach millions of children in less developed countries.

That I, has a girl, can now go to the same school and learn the same things as boys. If I was born 70 years ago or in some parts of the world today, I wouldn’t be able to. I recognize this privilege and I want to honour it for the millions of women who were discriminated through history and the ones who still are today.

We are so privileged. So privileged. So that’s my short take on the educational system. Yes, a lot can be improved, but a lot is right and we should appreciate and take care of such an important part of our society, and yes, I find writing essays about Shakespeare important for our development as a society and as a human being.

This is the greatest time to be alive. We’ve improved so much in terms of knowledge in all the areas of mankind that could’ve possibly be improved, and at such a phenomenal speed. We are living longer, the world has become less violent through the decades, the internet is a freaking miracle.

And the educational system is the one and only reason for that. So please don’t underestimate or take for granted staying in school. Please don’t underestimate those essays.

All of the things you said you wanted to do you can do now: you can do art, you can write, you can meet new people, you can explore the world, you can learn new things. Starting right now. Yes… in your basement. What stops you from learning german or french or getting a piece of paper and draw an abstract painting and put up a bunch in your wall, or write a novel, or go for a run in the nearest park, explore the trees, or look at the stars at night…. (And you started a conversation with a complete stranger, me!) You can start doing those things NOW. RIGHT NOW. Do the things you love now. Why wait till you live alone? Makes no sense, right?

When you follow a career you prefer and become an adult (which just means you’re older, have more responsibilities in life and are more mature about society) you can take bigger adventures. It’s like an upgrade.

So, don’t be cocky. Be humble. You’re in the position millions of young people are in. And it’s privileged. You’re learning things in your classes Aristotle, Newton, Curie, Galileo, Darwin and Einstein would KILL to know. You have a roof over your head. Many children are homeless as we speak. Stop to appreciate your life. Just because you’re not old enough to live by yourself doesn’t mean your life automatically sucks. Be patient because you’ll get there eventually. There’s nothing wrong with starting to be happy right now. Don’t wait till you’re an adult to start living your life. Start those drawings. Start that reading.

I love travelling but I also love studying and feeling useful for society. So I do both. I will love in the future to have my job and travel on the weekends and holidays, go to concerts, do art, be a proper adult, have my own apartment, make my adult plans come true. But for now, I love my young person life. I love university. I love my home. I love my room. Each period of our lives is temporary and I choose to appreciate mine and make the most of it. For now, we have to take care of ourselves through these young years. Learn from our parents while we still have them active with us.

Start planning and saving money for future big trips. I’ve thought of some myself. But please don’t think for a second being older is going to change your life or it’s magical and an aesthetic perfect existence. It’s still the present. Chips still taste like chips. The wind feels the exact same way in your face. Crying too. Everything is the same. The present moment never changes. It always feels like this… right now, while you’re reading this? That’s how it’s going to be forever. So if you keep waiting to have your life figured out to start doing things you love… you’ll wait and wait until you wake up one day and you’re 75.

I urge you. Appreciate your life. Start now. Life is beautiful.

Thank you for giving me the opportunity to answer this for you and I hope the advice reaches you. ♡ ♡ ♡ lots of love!

#answered #life advice

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