#doing your best

[thepeacefulgarden]

[chroniclesofchronicillness]

Hard to do sometimes

[serenityquest]

[slightlyaggressiveaffirmations]

IT’S OK NOT TO DO YOUR BEST!!!

FUCKING HALF-ASS SOME SHIT, FRIEND!!! THE SELF CARE POLAR BEAR SAYS IT’S OK AND SO DO I!!! WE GO THROUGH LIFE NOT DOING OUR BEST ALL THE TIME - AND IT’S NO BIG DEAL!!!

PARKING MY CAR? I JUST GET IT BETWEEN THE LINES, AND WHO FUCKING CARES IF IT AIN’T MY BEST?! COULD I MAKE THE PERFECT HAM AND CHEESE SANDWICH?! PROBABLY, BUT DO I BOTHER?! FUCK NO!!! IT’S STILL TASTY AF!!!

GO EASY ON YOU!!! NOT EVERYTHING YOU DO HAS TO BE YOUR BEST!!! GOOD ENOUGH IS EXCELLENT!!! EXCELLENT IS KICKING ASS!!!

[ididoktoday]

You’re either

currently ok

or on your way to ok.

It’s alright to be in a period of in-between.

[intermundia]

my favorite kind of tragedy is when everyone is doing the best they can, acting in good faith on the information they have, and it all still leads to catastrophe. we the audience watch, helpless, identifying deeply with the characters’ intentions, but knowing the devastation that is to come. you can ask over and over “what if? what if?” to solve and avoid the pain, trying to fix things in retrospect, ruminating and bargaining, but feeling that pain is also the whole point of watching a tragedy. like don’t get me wrong, i’m writing and have written books myself to solve the tragedy of the prequels, but i also recognize and appreciate the tragedy as it is, and love every character for their failings, their virtues turned to vices when taken to extremes when placed in a dooming context beyond their control

[corvarrow]

I wish I had gotten a screenshot of it but it was so random it totally threw me off, lol, so I just made it into a silly little meme. Anyway last night XIV just decided to teach me about gear repair...I have been playing for 2 years

[threezoz]

MVP of Love Class 2 - Boom Mic Operator-nim

[overstimulated-autism-creature]

M O T I V A T I O N

[wordsforsunset]

It sucks when even your best isn’t enough

[thingsinlife990]

The older I get the more I appreciate the beauty of simplicity

[thepeacefulgarden]

[simcardiac-arrested]

I am sorry with all the NS asks he lives in my head rent-free because he did everything, everything and yet it did not save him because those who had power over him decided so.

YOU!!!! you get them

[serenityquest]

[slightlyaggressiveaffirmations]

DOING YOUR BEST IS GOING REALLY FUCKING HARD, ACTUALLY!!!

FOR REAL, HOW OFTEN IN LIFE DO WE DO OUR BEST?! DO I DO MY BEST WHEN I COOK SAUSAGES?! NAH - I JUST MAKE SURE IT IS NEITHER RAW NOR FREAKIN' BURNED!!! DO I DO MY BEST WHEN I PARK MY CAR?! NO, I JUST MAKE SURE IT'S LEGAL AND I CAN GET IN AND OUT!!!

WHEN YOU DO YOUR BEST, THAT IS NOT A FAILURE OR SOMETHING LACKING - THAT IS DAMN WELL ABOVE AND BEYOND HOW WE LIVE MOST OF OUR LIFE DAY TO DAY!!!

WHEN SOMEONE ASKS YOU TO DO YOUR BEST, THEY ARE ASKING FOR A LOT - AND THEY NEED TO FUCKING RESPECT THAT!!!

[deadlyflan]

TMNT Micro Fic #4

Splinter paced a slow line back and forth in front of his eleven-year-old sons. This whole affair filled his heart with unease. However, a promise had been made, and the boys had fulfilled their part. He drew a deep breath and faced the four eager faces squarely. “Do you promise to remain underground?” “HAI, SENSEI!” “Do you promise to take the first aid kit with you?” “HAI, SENSEI!” “Will you all kill each other if I let you go?” Donatello instantly replied, “No, Sensei!” His left kneepad slipped down his string bean leg, but he pulled it back up with a kilowatt smile. His goggles toppled forward and left him tugging on their strap. The kneepad fell down again.

“Probably not?” Michelangelo glanced at Raph. His freckled baby-fat cheeks puffed as he bit back giggles. Toes tapping a quick rhythm, Mikey almost, but not quite, stopped himself from dancing where he stood. The streamers tied to his elbow pads rustled.

“Kill each other? Uh. I mean, maybe.” Raphael offered an honest smile with a hint of an apology shrug as a downpayment on any future scrapes or scuffs. He bumped his mismatched boxing-gloves together eagerly; he still wore bandaids from earlier in the week.

Leonardo matched the rest of his vibrating brothers. Blue finger-painted racing stripes covered his spindly upper body. Unfortunate thumbprints somewhat spoiled the design, but Leonardo hadn’t noticed his paint nipples yet. He laughed brightly. “Definitely yes!” Splinter balked. “You will kill each other?” “No, sensei! But I’m going to smoke all three of their tails! My racer is awesome!”

That triggered a tidal wave of denials. “No way! My racer is way better!” “You don’t even know what you’re messing with!” “I’m gonna smoke your tail and don’t you forget it!” Each of them had a hidden racer they’d worked on all winter. And while he’d helped them each out in turn—to make sure no one was going to lose limbs to this contest—Splinter knew what each of these racers looked like. He knew his sons. And he knew that this would be more of a demolition derby than a downhill race in the old spillway. “You’d have to be mutated on the finish line to have a chance at beating me!” “Yeah well, you’d need time travel to beat me!” “My racer did time travel and I’ve already won, so—“ “I’m not loosing to a bunch of egg-pooping pipe-lickers—“ “Raphael! ENOUGH!” Splinter sighed heavily and rubbed his temples. He was going to have a riot on his hands if he didn’t let them go. Leonardo waved his hands desperately. Splinter was having second thoughts and Raph had to go throwing around bad words. Splinter needed reassurance, fast! “But it will be fine, Sensei! We have the first aid kit! We’re just going to the spillway under Central Park! We will be—will have lots of sportsmanship! The good kind! Please let us go. We did all our chores. We behaved all winter! My racer—our racers are so cool! Pleeease—” “Yeah! We did our chores! You said if—” “It finally stopped raining! The spillway is dry for optimal racing—“ “I built the best racer, Sensei! Please! Lemme show’em! I can win—” With slumped shoulders and a prayer that Shen would watch over them, Splinter relented. What else could he do? “Yes, yes, my turtles. Just remember your helmets!” All four boys scattered full-tilt to their ’top secret garages’ before his second 'yes.'