#spark eller

[amourdeslangues]

language learning update (2/?)

Dia duit!!

Jag postade ingenting igår eftersom det var dagen då jag anlände till Irland (!!) och jag hade faktiskt inte tid för att lära mig språk... jag missade också min Duolingo-lektion igår 🥸

Men jag kunde fortsätta att läsa den svenska romanen medan jag var i tåget eller i flygplanet! Jag läste tre kapitel idag och igår, så avslutade jag 13 kapitel överallt. Det är väldigt fantastisk att se att jag förstår verkligen vad hämtar i boken 😂

switching to english for the next part:

i love how (almost) all the signs etc. in ireland are bilingual! i always pay extra attention to the part in irish, and i'm surprised to see how much i actually understand, since i thought i'd largely forgotten my knowledge of irish after not really practicing throughout all of last year.

what's really interesting is how being exposed to the language is noticeably reactivating that passive vocabulary! i keep remembering new bits and pieces of phrases i learnt ages ago. maybe that's not very surprising, but i wasn't consciously expecting it, so...

only two days into this trip and it has definitely re-sparked my passion for irish gaelic! i do regret having stopped learning it, and i think i'm going to take it up again. on verra :))

that's all for today's (and yesterday's) language update! more progress with reading in swedish (yay) and renewed interest in studying irish gaelic.

Slán! Vi ses imorgon...

[nisju]

Ball is life (UX uke 1)

Hei bloggen. Jeg har laget app med temaet fotball ⚽ Appens navn er Løkkefotball, som i "skal vi sparke ball på løkka?" som de kule sier. For de ufaglærte betyr det sparke ball for moro skyld i en uformell setting, på et uformelt sted som i en park eller hage.

Hvem skal bruke appen?

Alle fotballglade sjeler som ønsker å finne andre spillere i sitt nærområde, til å spille løkkefotball (og i flerbrukshaller og andre baner). Fotballfans kommer i alle aldre og kjønn, og appens brukerbase gjenspeiler det.

Hva slags behov har de?

Hensikten med appen er inspirert av studenter og unge voksne som flytter til nye steder uten å kjenne noen. De har kanskje ikke et fritidstilbud, som en studentsamskipnad eller et lokallag i nærområdet sitt. Derfor kan denne appen være et lavterskel-verktøy for de som vil sparke litt ball, men ikke vet med hvem eller hvor de kan spille.

Gjennom appen kan man:

Se i et kart hvor nærmeste fotballbane befinner seg, samt andre appbrukere (med aktivitetsnivå og favorittlag)

Melde seg opp til uoffisielle arrangementer organisert av appbrukere og smålag

Sende meldinger til de man har møtt på trening

Se en oversikt over tidligere og kommende treningsøkter

Når skal det brukes?

Når man klør i føttene etter å spille fotball.

Når man vil møte danne nye bekjentskap gjennom en felles aktivitet/interesse, holde seg i form og mimre over fotballkarrieren som aldri ble til.

Tilbakemeldinger:

"Forum blir overflødig, Kim, det finnes reddit og twitter for sånt." - broren min

"Profilbildene er for store, det ser dating-app-aktig ut." - kollega

"Appen kan ikke hete ****evenner" - stud.ass

"Fine farger" - samboeren min

"Fine farger" - fotballglad kompis

[nosdk]

Preseason Gameday: Tennessee Titans

New Orleans Saints spiller deres tredje og sidste preseason kamp mod Tennessee Titans. Kampen sparkes igang søndag aften kl. 20:00. Kampen spilles i New Orleans og er den første hjemmekamp denne sæson. Kampen er sidste chance for marginalspillerne til at vise deres værd og sikre sig en plads på 53-mands roster, eller måske en plads på et andet NFL hold. Danske fans uden Gamepass abonnement har…

[theobviousparadox]

Review: Joined at the Joints Marissa Eller

Joined at the JointsMarissa EllerHoliday HousePublished July 2, 2024 Amazon | Bookshop | Goodreads About Joined at the Joints When baking-obsessed Ivy meets a super-hot boy who shares her rare diagnosis, sparks fly outside of the kitchen for the first time in her life! Chronically ill seventeen-year-old Ivy has stayed in watching the Food Network all summer—pies are better than people, and…

[havnblog]

Umulig

Når jeg ser at det er noe jeg ikke vet hvordan man gjør, har jeg, selv om jeg ikke har gjort det før, klokketro på at dét bare er midlertidig. For det er presedens for å anta at dette bare en framtidig ferdighet jeg kan bruke mens jeg lærer neste - og dette gjelder det meste.

Men å skjønne at bussen går 18:14, og det tar 9 minutter å gå til stoppet, at jeg ikke bare kan hoppe over at middagen tar litt tid, og at den ikke kan tas i samme slengen - å huske på jussen, og at det står i grunnloven at jeg fortjener skeive blikk om jeg tar med fiskegratengen på kollektivtrafikk, og at jeg derfor måtte starte å spise før 17:58, er helt umulig.

Jeg kan komme på 400 idéer på like mange sekunder. Og selv om kjernen kanskje aldri munner ut i noe håndfast, kaster hjernen min ut et såpass stort nett av ledninger, at vi vinner NM i gjemsel, og finner koblinger til ting andre har begravd under et berg av glemsel. Og når et gjennombrudd rett og slett viser seg å bare være et skremmeskudd, kan jeg, som en hakkespett, utrettelig dunke hodet mot et skrekkelig hardbarka problem.

Men å takle at nå må vi gå videre, og at dette ikke er problemet som er mest nødvendige å løse akkurat nå, skjønne at folk flest helst vil gjøre noe ferdig iblant, og å ikke alltid henge seg opp i det siste vi fant, innse at noen ting kan vi ikke gjøre noe med, at jeg klatrer opp feil tre, det er helt umulig.

Jeg kan stå i et rom med 28 halvutvikla hjerner tett-i-tett, og få dem til å aldri glemme at også små stemmer har både sang- og stemmerett, Og selv om jeg synes noe er lett, forstår jeg alle måtene det kan være vanskelig - og jeg kan få dem til å forstå at tall ikke trenger å være så fryktelig. Og jeg kan fange opp når noen føler seg fanga, og at dette er alt for mye å få i fanget - enten fordi de er småsyke, eller fordi de ikke vet om de i ettermiddag, nok en gang, må lage middag til småsøsknene.

Men å hindre at mine egne tanker totalt overdøves av 28 000 usikre tanker fra overalt (om å ikke passe inn, om at det nok vanker stygge blikk de må vasse i, om det er var gym- eller TikTok-prestasjonen som gjorde at invitasjonen til overnattinga i helga uteble, om å ikke se om det var noe de gjorde, som tilsier at de fortjener å bli kalt hore, om å skjønne at de må håndtere en bråte slag og spark om noen skulle se de gråte, om å bruke prøve-tida på å bare skrive av spørsmålene, for å ikke levere et blankt ark, om å akseptere at du aldri kommer til å prestere, at voksne kun ønsker å se deg falle, og aldri vil være noe anna enn skapninger skapt for å gjøre deg forbanna, ved å minne deg på at alt du gjør, og er, er feil, og at du bør, én gang for alle, gi opp å bli likt, og at det, tross alt, også er verdi i frykt), å leve med å ikke få lov til å ta fatt (for dét har vi ikke råd til siden vi ikke vil ha eiendomsskatt), å leve med at 28 nervesystemer sender engasjerte, nysgjerrige, irriterte, vakre, vaklende, triumferende, og kvisete signaler rett inn på mitt, er min kryptonitt, og er helt umulig.

Jeg kan dele ut “Nobelpris i menneske” til alle som fikser det jeg ikke klarer. Og jeg trikser med regnskapet til jeg ender opp med så mye gjeld, med evigvarende inflasjon, at jeg aldri klarer å tette gapet. Og jeg kan ta enhver kvalitet ved med selv, og forkaste den som en kuriositet - som jeg i beste fall gir samme kjærlighet som en installasjon i foajéen på et universitet.

Men å gi meg selv fred, og lov til å ha tro på at jeg kan finne et sted hvor jeg kan få være god på det jeg er god på, er helt umulig.

[drakternfl2]

To seire på rad gir Kansas City Chiefs selvtillit

Kansas City Chiefs avsluttet en dårlig ordinær sesong som gjorde quarterback Patrick Mahomes rasende over lagkameratenes feil i de siste sekundene. Quarterback Patrick Mahomes har sin tøffeste sesong siden han spilte for Kansas City Chiefs. Chris Jones fikk med hell en sjanse til å sparke i kampen, og Amerikansk Fotball Drakter nr. 95 tillot fansen nøyaktig å se ham feire.

Chris Jones feiret ikke alene, han løp til benken etter en flott kamp. Enten de er innbytterspillere eller hovedspillere, heier og feirer de alle sammen med Chris Jones. Chris Jones' glede kommer fra hans enestående prestasjoner og bonusen han kan motta fra laget. Chris Jones så på Kansas City Chiefs Drakter i garderoben, og han var ivrig etter å slå gjennom og finne sin beste form. De er de forsvarende mesterne denne sesongen, og de må forsvare sin mesterskapsutmerkelse fra å bli tatt bort av andre lag. Denne sesongen er imidlertid en utfordring for Kansas City Chiefs, ettersom lagets offensive lag presterte dårlig. Kansas City Chiefs' evne til å gå videre til sluttspillet er avhengig av det defensive laget. Prestasjonen til disse spillerne gjør at laget kan kvalifisere seg.

Kansas City Chiefs beseiret Cincinnati Bengals i det mest kritiske øyeblikket av den ordinære sesongen, og deretter beseiret benken Los Angeles Chargers. To seire på rad har gjort det mulig for Kansas City Chiefs å bygge opp selvtillit igjen, og de må finne formen før sluttspillet. Quarterback Patrick Mahomes har vært sint ofte denne sesongen. Han har ikke vært en spiller som blir lett sint før. Patrick Mahomes vil ikke at lagkameratenes prestasjoner gradvis skal synke, og lagkameratenes reaksjon er også å få luft i den dårlige ordinære sesongen.

[politirapporten]

Østjyllands Politi fremstillede i dag kl. 12.00 en 17-årig ung mand i grundlovsforhør ved Retten i Aarhus. Han er sigtet for at have begået røveri i form af et voldeligt overfald mod en ung AGF-fan, som han frarøvede en fodboldtrøje. Den 17-årige er belgisk statsborger. Episoden fandt sted på Carl Nielsens Vej i Aarhus C efter slutfløjtet i torsdagens fodboldkamp på Aarhus Stadion mellem AGF og belgiske Club Brügge, hvor en større gruppe udenlandske fans overfaldt to 14-årige drenge med henblik på at begå røveri mod dem. De to drenge blev overfaldet med blandt andet slag og spark, da de var på vej hjem fra fodboldkampen og befandt sig nogle hundrede meter væk fra stadion. Politiet modtog anmeldelsen kl. 22.27 fra et vidne på stedet, der var i selskab med de to drenge og hurtigt fik ringet 112, hvorfor politiet kunne være fremme ved overfaldet bare få øjeblikke senere. Her lykkedes det at få anholdt den 17-årige unge belgiske mand, der blev fundet i besiddelse af den 14-åriges fodboldtrøje. Han blev desuden fundet i besiddelse af tandbeskytter og maskering. ”Der er tale om en grov sag, som vi ser på med stor alvor. Vi er meget opmærksomme på, at oplevelsen har været voldsom for de to 14-årige, der blev umotiveret overfaldet efter fodboldkampen, som ellers var forløbet uden større uroligheder,” siger vicepolitiinspektør Thomas Schouby Hansen fra Østjyllands Politi. Ved dagens grundlovsforhør ved Retten i Aarhus blev den 17-årige belgiske mand varetægtsfængslet i fire uger frem til fredag d. 1. september. Han blev sigtet for røveri, men kærede kendelsen til landsretten og nægter sig skyldig.

[opplevkambodsja]

Nattevandring i Siem Reap

Kunstnattmarkedet øst for elva er stedet for et større utvalg av lokal kunst.

Kveldstur i Siem Reap er en hyggelig affære. Med eller uten kamera. I sesongen er det også et sted der de fleste besøkende har brukt tid på de forskjellige severdigheheter. Om det nå er inne i Angkor-parken, en tur til Tonle Sap-innsjøen, eller en av de andre kulturaktivitene som er mulig i denne kulturhovedstaden i Kambodsja.

Inkludert byvandringer eller en sykkeltur på leid sykkel. Enten tråkkbar eller elektrisk.

Mat, drikke og shopping

Det er det tid for kveldsliv, som grovt sett betyr å finne seg noe god mat og drikke etter smak og behov. Og mer shopping i de mange nattmarkedene og kveldsåpne butikkene og bodene.

Shopping i nattmarkedet.

I løpet av pandemien har bybildet endret seg, blir jeg fortalt. Mange utesteder og butikker er stengt eller har skiftet eier og profil. I tillegg har et stort statlig sysselsettingsprosjekt vært å oppdatere de viktigste ferdselsårene med bedre fast dekke, fortau og sykkelbaner.

Sikrere på sykkel, og mindre støv og søle gjør Siem Reap triveligere enn før.

Ta en pust, sparke av skoa og sjekke hva som har skjedd er en yndet kveldsaktivitet.

Siem Reap er mer klar for nye besøk og opplevelser enn før. Eller verdt en gjenvisitt.

Mat og drikke etter smak og behov. Det er middags- og kveldsmulighetene i Siem Reap.

[kobnfltrojerdk]

Rodgers klager over, at spillere bliver ved med at spille sjældnere uden at få bolden

Der er gået syv uger i NFL, men et hold har overgået vores fantasi, og det er Green Bay Packers. De har tabt tre i træk, og den nuværende rekord er kun tre sejre og fire tab. For et stærkt hold er dette resultat også meget svært for fans at acceptere. De ser meget frem til, at spillerne iført Green Bay Packers- nfl trøjer kan justere deres form og vende tilbage til deres top.

Holdets nuværende rekord gør også deres stjerne Rodgers meget utilfreds. Over for den første tre-kamps tabsrække i karrieren er Rodgers også meget vred. Han mener, at omsætningshastigheden af ​​spillere nu er højere end nogensinde før. Dette er ikke en person. Bolden som spilleren i Green Bay Packers trøje skal sparke. Og hans spillere, der laver for mange turnovers, bør ikke være på gulvet eller spille færre gear for at give flere chancer til dem, der ikke rammer bolden. "

Det er svært at acceptere at tabe hele tiden, og de nuværende Green Bay Packers er nødt til at løse deres nuværende knibe for at komme tilbage til toppen.

[lilleogforvirret]

Min guilty pleasure er at jeg fucking elsker at blive praised og få princess treatment. Ligesom på dette billede tihi😌🧚🏻‍♂️✨

Hvis en fyr vil kalde mig et slur, give mig en lussing eller have mig til at tigge og be om at få >den<, kan han få et spark i nosserne i stedet for😌✨

[artnerd1123]

Me, ransacking the first level and beating black knight over the head with my shovel for the 4th time today: wym this isn’t a money farm???

[thepiningpoet]

I see you in everything: in the shifting colors of windswept whey, in the sun's rays spilling across a body of water, the gold in Gustav Klimt's paint. Everything. Everything is a shade of blond now, everything is a strand of your hair being woven steadily into my reality. Every man I draw resembles you now. When will you give me my eyes again? When will they be free of this madness? I can't clear my mind of you. I want to confess, I want to disclose my sins that I've kept away under lock and key, that I've buried under layers of self-denial and hesitation. My tongue lays heavier in my mouth than the weight and burden of my secrets. Please, it's too heavy for me now. The yoke is too much for me. Shall I confess? Shall I beg your forgiveness? I've envisioned kissing your mouth more than I've prayed in three years.

When we spoke together until midnight it wasn't a simple conversation we were having, it was a psychological undressing. Will you permit me to undress the rest? Forgive my brashness, won't you? You've bewitched me in every sense. I'm malleable like clay in your warm hands. Be gentle with me, but only with my heart. With my vessel, you can do whatever you wish, my love: polish it, place flowers delicately inside, break it on a night's errand, if you will. Förstör det. I am yours mind, body and soul. What have you done with me? I'm not myself anymore and yet I'm gladdened by it, surprised. Depression had me in its grips with no hopes of release. I had forgotten what it was like to be happy. Then you wrote to me, and the image of your face sparked a certain joy, a fire in me, starting like a candle: innocent, pure, a bright light in the dimness . How it has changed. How can something so innocent evolve so quickly? The small light of the wick has morphed into devastating flames that will devour all that fall in its path, attempting to chastise it. Don't you see? Det kan inte längre kontrolleras. It's too overpowering. In the end, I'm only a coward with a brave face. I only write you the words I could never bring myself to say. So here I am, begging you, imploring you...end this. Put me out of my misery. Tell me you love me, or you don't. But nothing in between. Säg mig att du älskar mig eller inte. Men inget mellan.

-K.A.H.

[a-memory-of]

“Ari’doram is not like other soulstones.” Ruran Vas’s tone was soft but matter-of-fact, and the stone flickered. He reached up to clutch it. “...but that does seem to be true. We remember so much, but there is still something missing... If I could just...”

Whatever he was thinking, it was pulling him back under. "Well, yes, I know it is not quite like other soulstones," Ellere Valahan nodded, raising her hands up a bit as if to show she certainly had not meant offense. "Just that it is perhaps a similarity... a reason you are overwhelmed by the thoughts of memories that are not yours."

She caught the way he was starting to drift off, and sighed. Once the tea was done, she carried it over to the couch and sat down once more. Ellere did not force it, but she set the warm mug where he could reach it, and leaned back with her own.

"Has it always been this way? I... do not ever recall you implying that Ari'doram was merely a part until now," she looked down to her tea, thinking. "And you've... never spoken as if you yourself were included." The shift of Ellere against the couch brought his mind back above the surface. He did not move to take the tea yet, instead staring down at his calloused hands. "I feel I am barely my own person... Ari'doram wishes for me to remain separate until the end, but how..? Why? Is this not what was meant to happen..?" The stone flickered at his chest, unhelpful.

His head shook again, and he took a breath. His words were careful and slow, as though they might slip away if he spoke too quickly. "Ari'doram is...confused--overwhelmed, just the same as I. We had tried to learn its origins, but Ari'doram could not remember, and we could find nothing in the temple..." His eyes shut for a moment. "...The stone we found...started something. Like a dam, its memories...crashed upon us all at once."

His fingers curled and his head bowed. "I apologize--I am...likely not making sense. I hardly understand, myself..." Ellere looked down at the stone around his neck. She still wanted to fervently believe it when they had spoke that last time. It was all she could do.

"I am certain Ari'doram has its reasons," Ellere said after a moment of quiet. As his head bowed, her own reached up and tucked loose locks behind an ear. "And what would an oath be, if you no longer remembered the you that made it." Her fingers drew through his hair a few more times, then she sighed.

It was true, she likely would never understand fully what he felt like. But she could sympathize. "Here," she said, taking the box from him and replacing it with the mug of tea. "Drink some tea, and then we can have a look at your back. 'Tis no use dwelling on all this now, hm? As you say you... need the last. So we shall focus on getting you strong enough to travel, and I shall pull some favors for a ship to the Pearl Isles, all right?" A ship to the isles. He nodded at that, swallowing thickly before reaching for his mask. He removed it for now and set it on his knee. The blank wooden face stared up toward the ceiling. Carefully, he tipped the mug to his lips and took a long sip.

A small spark flit across his weary eyes, and they closed. The tea tasted like home. Like cool nights by warm fires and quiet mornings in soft beds. “It tastes very good,” he murmured, his voice unhindered by the lack of mask. Ellere gave a small, amused chuckle. "I suppose if I can do one thing right, it is brewing tea," she watched him then drew her eyes down to the mask but they did not linger there. His face, even now, was such a rare thing. It was such a shame to be hidden away as it was. Yes, he could stand to eat more, and sleep more, that much was apparent at first glance. But there was so much of him in his eyes, no longer hidden behind shadows of a mask.

"'Tis just a bit of chamomile and honey," Ellere continued, sipping it herself. "Sometimes however, it is the simpler things that calm us the most." “I used to drink this,” he mumbled, his eyes distant and thoughtful, “atop the roofs of Ul’dah, watching the sunset. That was...years ago. I could rarely see the sun over the other buildings, but the colors...”

He spent a moment silently reminiscing. His thin fingers wrapped around the mug. A haze of gold spun over his heavy-lidded eyes. “Now all I see is the sun...” She hadn't expected the admittance. But it brought a warmth back into her eyes that worry had hidden for so long. It was laced with a heavy sadness in the way he spoke, yet words like that were real, when the passed few suns had been such a struggle. Ellere hushed him, "Oh, Ruran... that's not true. You looked upon the sky and gave a star a name, did you not?"

Shifting slightly, she took her hand and tucked it under his chin, cupping the opposite cheek in a gesture meant to turn him to her. Ellere met his eyes, swirling with gold even as they were. Her head tilted slightly, and she smiled, "And you see still see me, don't you?"

Ruran met her eyes in return, green even through his haze. A strange sense of peace washed over him. He had no room or time left to mourn his own fate. His expression softened, and he lifted one hand to rest over hers, on his cheek.

“I still see you,” he quietly affirmed. He did not smile, but he seemed a hair’s breadth away from it. ___________________

With @weepingknight​

Ellere held his gaze a moment more. There was a passing hesitation, the briefest flicker of her gaze to the side. Whatever she was thinking, she seemed to change her mind. Yet she still used their hands, joined as they were, as she stood. With his hand held between them, she set her mug aside and once again focused on Ruran.

"Ser Lightheart," she said with a smile. "I knew we would meet again, did I not say?" She was calling a distant memory, but she truly only wished for his eyes to stay the way they were, like this, almost happy.

She was still half bent, holding his hand in a gesture that was as much a question as her words were. "Shall we honor the occasion with a dance, once more?" “A dance...” The light in his eyes flickered, remembering. Memories of ancient festivities tried to engulf him, but the masquerade was his own. The newest, and the strongest.

“Of course.” He did not have it in him to play a role—although Ser Lightheart had never been too far from his own personality. He set aside his mug and pushed himself up to join her. His thin form and loose clothes were hardly knightly or noble, and his apartment was a far cry from a ballroom. But it didn’t matter; the moment was no less precious. She did not seem to mind his clothes, or the setting, as she tugged him gently away from the couch and into a more open area of the small apartment. Ellere set the pace, slow, and guiding one of his hands down to her hip. It was far from the excited, spur of the moment improvised dance she had stolen in the cabin. But it was also not quite so formal as anything had been at the masquerade and gala.

Her hand was on his shoulder, and the other still linked with his own. There was no music, but it did not matter. Ellere could make her own. A soft hum, familiar perhaps to the tune she had hummed to him a few times when he was ill or after a nightmare, filled the silence of the small room as they swayed.

Ruran recognized the tune. It often visited him on the edge of sleep—a melody that soothed him. He swayed, his hand at her hip where she had guided. His tired head sagged down, closer to her own, with the soulstone radiating between them.

He seemed serene. This was more than he had expected. For as long as her song continued, he would move with her, and perhaps even after she had finished. Ellere lost track of time. It was always such an easy thing to do during moments like these. A slight motion of her head let hers rest against his as it fell. And they supported one another like that as they continued the dance. It was moments like these she could pretend everything was different. Moments where her mind wandered.

Had she not been close enough to feel the warmth of the stone around his neck, she could almost fool herself into believing this was all much simpler. Eventually though, Ellere quieted her song but kept the gentle sway a moment more. They drifted to a stop slowly, and she looked up to his tired face.

She almost leaned in, but caught herself with a slight smile, "...Forgive me." Ruran studied her eyes, her lips, and part of him wished she had leaned in. It was a feeling that had been growing for moons, nurtured by their years spent together, hands intertwined. If she moved in just an ilm closer...

The light flickered in the stone and in his eyes, and the ancient past and fateful present returned him to reality. His mouth formed a thin line, half a grimace on his weary features. He gently shook his head. “It is I who should be pleading for your forgiveness...” "We have spoken of this before," Ellere answered him, voice quiet with how close they still lingered. "You owe me nothing, most especially apologies." She was smiling, but in that distant way when her thoughts troubled her. The hand that had been on his shoulder through the dance rose up and cupped around his cheek.

"Yet here I am, indulging in selfishness. Too much," Ellere looked at him, resting in his gaze for as long as she dared. Her thumb drew across skin once, then twice. After another moment that felt far too short and far too long all at once, Ellere did lean in but her lips met the cheek opposite her hand.

It was enough, and yet she knew more than likely too much as it was. Pulling back, Ellere dropped her hand and rubbed at his arm. "We should have a look at your back. And then get you to bed." Ruran’s brows furrowed at her claims, a refusal parting his mouth, but no words forming. It was not selfish. It was not too much. But he knew he could not argue; his strength was already slipping. Too soon.

His head gently tilted toward her as he felt her lips touch his cheek. She had never been so close. But he only had a moment to dwell on it before she pulled away.

His shoulders fell a bit, and he nodded. “Y-yes,” was all he mumbled before taking a step back toward the couch. His current situation began to sink back in, the serenity of the dance being shifted away by voices creeping on the edge of his mind. His hands fumbled with his shirt as he sat himself down. Ellere lingered where she was a moment, before taking a breath and following him back toward the couch. It had been a nice distraction, she supposed. Enough to bring him out of that haze for but a short time. And it was a memory she could hold dear, no matter what came.

She waited for him to remove his shirt, scooting closer only once it was off so that she could get a proper look at his scars. It had been some time since she had seen them fully, a peek here or there as she was tending other injuries. But they had not been an issue since that night so long ago where she had to strengthen them. Ruran pulled the tunic over his head and held it in a wad on his lap as he leaned forward. By then, the distance had returned to his eyes. His thoughts wandered to the past behind and fate ahead.

His body was as thin as ever, his spine and ribs pronounced, and he had too many scars for someone who had always longed for peace. She would recognize most—if not all—of them. The runes on his back were glowing and warm, making it difficult to at first see anything out of the ordinary. Ruran, half in his haze, reached back to scratch at the skin behind his shoulder, and it was then that she would see.

The rune-marked skin was beginning to flake away, and beneath the scar?

Crystal. Golden and bright like the stone at his chest. Knowing this, she would soon find other patches where the scars had been scraped away by Ruran’s scritching and rubbing. More crystal. It seemed limited to the shape of the runes, not spreading to the unblemished parts of his back. Yet. The aether had concentrated into the runes too densely, and for too long. It always hurt. Seeing him the way he was. She did remember the scars, tending many of them herself. She remembered no matter how many meals she made or sent, he always looked starved. Each time Ellere wished she knew how, wished she had the power or some spell, to take it all away. But no matter what she did, this, she could not find a way to heal.

Gentle hands touched his back, over the glowing runes. She didn't need an aetherometer to see. They energy in them was palpable now, far more than it had ever been. Then her hands drew across something hard. And beneath the glow she could see it. An audible gasp slipped out.

Ellere had always prided herself on being strong for her patients. Most especially him. She had tried, she had tried. It was why she drew him into a dance when there were so many other things to do. Why she smiled, and told him to have hope. But something about this, as if the stone itself was already laying claim to his body, broke her.

She couldn't even find words, swallowing around a thickness in her throat. She was glad he was faced away, so as not to see her cry. Ellere could not heal this either. Her brain had already went through a hundred and one spells.

Her head fell against his back, forehead meeting the warmth of the markings. "I..." the simple sound was so hard to make. "Why..." it was word weighted as a question and not. It wasn't really clear who it was meant for: him, Ari'doram, Azeyma herself. Ruran did not quite know what was happening. He felt the itch—skin tightening across his back over the past moon or two, but had not seen the extent of it from his viewpoint. If Ari’doram knew, the entity did not say. Of course.

He felt her head fall on him, and the quiet word reached his ears.

“We have known for...a long time—that it would be this way...” Ruran’s head turned. He couldn’t see her face, but he wanted her to know that he was talking to her. “...Despite it, I am glad you are with me. You...never gave up on me. No matter how much I wished you to.” "I am never going to give up on you, Ruran Vas," it was said almost in a single breath, followed by a hitch and her body shook once against him in what might have been a sob. Even as Ellere lay pressed against his back as she did, eyes closed around tears as if it would make what she had seen disappear, she furiously denied it all.

After a long moment, one that probably felt longer than it was, Ellere regained enough of herself to pull her head back. One hand reached up and wiped under her glasses, the other lay over the runes again. "They're... turning to crystal," she began, thinking she should at least have the decency to tell him what had affected her so. "C-Concentrated aether."

[havnblog]

Umulig

Når jeg ser at det er noe jeg ikke vet hvordan man gjør, har jeg, selv om jeg ikke har gjort det før, klokketro på at dét bare er midlertidig. For det er presedens for å anta at dette bare en framtidig ferdighet jeg kan bruke mens jeg lærer neste - og dette gjelder det meste.

Men å skjønne at bussen går 18:14, og det tar 9 minutter å gå til stoppet, at jeg ikke bare kan hoppe over at middagen tar litt tid, og at den ikke kan tas i samme slengen - å huske på jussen, og at det står i grunnloven at jeg fortjener skeive blikk om jeg tar med fiskegratengen på kollektivtrafikk, og at jeg derfor måtte starte å spise før 17:58, er helt umulig.

Jeg kan komme på 400 idéer på like mange sekunder. Og selv om kjernen kanskje aldri munner ut i noe håndfast, kaster hjernen min ut et såpass stort nett av ledninger, at vi vinner NM i gjemsel, og finner koblinger til ting andre har begravd under et berg av glemsel. Og når et gjennombrudd rett og slett viser seg å bare være et skremmeskudd, kan jeg, som en hakkespett, utrettelig dunke hodet mot et skrekkelig hardbarka problem.

Men å takle at nå må vi gå videre, og at dette ikke er problemet som er mest nødvendige å løse akkurat nå, skjønne at folk flest helst vil gjøre noe ferdig iblant, og å ikke alltid henge seg opp i det siste vi fant, innse at noen ting kan vi ikke gjøre noe med, at jeg klatrer opp feil tre, det er helt umulig.

Jeg kan stå i et rom med 28 halvutvikla hjerner tett-i-tett, og få dem til å aldri glemme at også små stemmer har både sang- og stemmerett, Og selv om jeg synes noe er lett, forstår jeg alle måtene det kan være vanskelig - og jeg kan få dem til å forstå at tall ikke trenger å være så fryktelig. Og jeg kan fange opp når noen føler seg fanga, og at dette er alt for mye å få i fanget - enten fordi de er småsyke, eller fordi de ikke vet om de i ettermiddag, nok en gang, må lage middag til småsøsknene.

Men å hindre at mine egne tanker totalt overdøves av 28 000 usikre tanker fra overalt (om å ikke passe inn, om at det nok vanker stygge blikk de må vasse i, om det er var gym- eller TikTok-prestasjonen som gjorde at invitasjonen til overnattinga i helga uteble, om å ikke se om det var noe de gjorde, som tilsier at de fortjener å bli kalt hore, om å skjønne at de må håndtere en bråte slag og spark om noen skulle se de gråte, om å bruke prøve-tida på å bare skrive av spørsmålene, for å ikke levere et blankt ark, om å akseptere at du aldri kommer til å prestere, at voksne kun ønsker å se deg falle, og aldri vil være noe anna enn skapninger skapt for å gjøre deg forbanna, ved å minne deg på at alt du gjør, og er, er feil, og at du bør, én gang for alle, gi opp å bli likt, og at det, tross alt, også er verdi i frykt), å leve med å ikke få lov til å ta fatt (for dét har vi ikke råd til siden vi ikke vil ha eiendomsskatt), å leve med at 28 nervesystemer sender engasjerte, nysgjerrige, irriterte, vakre, vaklende, triumferende, og kvisete signaler rett inn på mitt, er min kryptonitt, og er helt umulig.

Jeg kan dele ut “Nobelpris i menneske” til alle som fikser det jeg ikke klarer. Og jeg trikser med regnskapet til jeg ender opp med så mye gjeld, med evigvarende inflasjon, at jeg aldri klarer å tette gapet. Og jeg kan ta enhver kvalitet ved med selv, og forkaste den som en kuriositet - som jeg i beste fall gir samme kjærlighet som en installasjon i foajéen på et universitet.

Men å gi meg selv fred, og lov til å ha tro på at jeg kan finne et sted hvor jeg kan få være god på det jeg er god på, er helt umulig.

[etkysfarvel]

Fill my lungs full of smoke Fill my belly full of beer Fill my nights with bad jokes Told by folks full of fear

Fill my eyes with a stinging Fill my time with wishing she was here

Fill my wide with the narrow Fill my safe full of danger Fill my bed full of shadows Fill my dreams full of strangers

Fill my ears with a ringin' Fill my heart with a fear of fear

Well, fill my cup half empty 'cause it's never been half full Fill me up, paint me over, like a damp patch on the wall Leave me lyin' on my stomach on your neighbour's bathroom floor I'm only here until tomorrow anyway

I'm burnin' up, like a fever that rages in the night Spark me up, I'm a firework, I'll burst into light For it's better to burn out than to fade out of sight That's what someone told me anyway

So fill my lungs full of smoke Fill my belly full of beer Fill my nose full of cocaine Fill my eyes full of tears

Fill my short with a longin' Fill my time with wishin' I wasn't here

Oh, fill my past with regret Wrap my present in brown paper Fill my future with promises That promise to come later

Fill my heart with a stingin' Fill my heart with a fear of fear

Den her sang har igennem de to år hvor jeg har erhvervet mig min selvdestruktive og livsafkræftende livsstil ikke betydet en fløjtende fis, før jeg stødte på den igen her for et par dage siden. Jeg har hørt den mange gange før, men jeg har aldrig lyttet til den, og derfor har jeg aldrig taget den til mig som så mange af de andre sange jeg har knyttet mig til fra passenger, eller The Lumineers. 

Den beskriver jo rent faktisk den eksakte følelse jeg har eksisteret i, i min hverdag. Jeg har hverken kunnet eller villet anderkende min egen eksistens, som så, jeg har valgt at slå på automatpilot, og tilsidesætte det der gør mig som person til en person. Det har som start været et bevidst valg, men som tiden gik, glemte jeg hvor jeg valgte at stille min sjæl i papkassen på mit psykiske loft, ligesom vi hos mine forældre gemte ting på loftet. Jeg ved dog nu at jeg glemte min sjæl, min menneskelighed, samt selvrespekt på mit loft, men hvor jeg glemte dem, det ved jeg ikke endnu. Er dog stadivæk glad for at jeg er den tand mere oplyst end jeg før har været. 

Jeg er dog stadigvæk glad for at jeg har realiseret at det er bedre at sige fra, stille krav til andre, se mig selv bedre end dem som jeg rent faktisk er større end som menneske. Det krævede at jeg blev nedbrudt og bygget op igen. Jeg er dog ikke tilfreds med at jeg fra starten på min genopstanden ikke har været bevidst om at det var tilfældet; velvidende at det ikke var muligt, hvis jeg på den anden side havde kendt til grundlaget og udfaldet.  

Skulle jeg dog se det igennem mine holdninger, principper, persona samt n ego der dengang var ikke-eksisterende, så udfylder det mine behov, da jeg ved at jeg har hjulpet Dennis med at vokse, spejle, reflektere samt danne sig en indre sensitivitet, form for empati, og et syn på mennesker fra mit perspektiv, et perspektiv på livet på måder man førhen ikke havde bemærket eller set. Jeg ved at jeg har holdt ham nede på jorden i så stor stil at han har vendt og drejet dårlige situationer han har stået i, og tænkt over de samtaler vi har haft og på grundlag af dem, har han valgt at skåne ham selv, Melle, hans datter og mig for mange gener. Og det er jeg stolt af. Og på samme tid har jeg ud fra hans nogle gange godt peberet, samt andre gange fuldt sandfærdige livsberetninger, lært at blive et bedre menneske. 

Sandt eller ej, så er jeg en af de få Dennis respekterer fuldt ud, til et sådan stadie at jeg kan pisse ham op og ned af ryggen hvorpå han vil vende sig om og smile; det selv samme gør at jeg igennem gensidighed respekterer ham nok til at gøre alt for at undgå at træde på ham. Jeg er ham evigt taknemmelig for at han igennem sit eget ego har set at jeg var så svag og nedbrød mig til ukendelighed, for så at præge mig til at danne mig selv på ny og genopstå som et menneske der er oplyst om flere menneskesyn en normen.

Men som så mange andre ting, må man give afkald på betydningsfulde elementer af sin eksistens, for at vokse. 

Jeg skal gøre noget godt for mig selv, jeg skal tage mig sammen, og benytte mig af mine overlegenheder de feste ikke besidder. Han har nu udnyttet min stærkeste side som han har erfaret igennem mig, han er for alvor blevet forelsket, og jeg er lykkelig på hans vejene, i sådan en grad at min hverdag bliver lysere af samme grund. Jeg bør vise (ham, men stadig mig selv over ham selvfølgelig), den respekt at benytte det han har givet mig.

Af hjertet er jeg taknemmelig for at du da du den decemberdag sagde fra og sagde stop for os. Ellers var jeg aldrig vokset så meget som jeg er. Men jeg har tabt tøjlerne til mit liv som en rytter til sin hest, jeg må tage kontrol igen og tage alting i små bidder, det kan ikke gå helt galt så. Der er håb forude.

[hithren]

Soft OC Asks | For any of the ladies, 🌻 What little things do they notice about people or the world around them that make them happy? What tiny little treasures do they find in the normal every day that makes the world seem a little brighter for them?

Ellere is a simple woman. Above all else, she enjoys people’s smiles. Most especially the very special ones that light up their eyes. Seeing those she loves happy might be the easy answer, but it is the truth. Hearing people talk about their passions, their travels, anything that lights up that spark is a true gift she cherishes. 

Smiles like that remind her that the world is not so bad. There may still be wars, and illness and the like, but there’s still people who can smile despite it all. That is a world she does not mind fighting for, with what little she can do.