Learning From PewDiePie
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I bite down on the split of my lip. it stings when I smile, but I have to lick hard at to to get even a faint hint of blood. there’s a scar right next to it that I can with my tongue from some other chapped lip long ago. it feels odd that I managed that. people get chapped lips all the time, but not one else seems to have any scars from that.
hmm i have so much stuff to do i dont know wich one to do first
please tell me it’s not permanent // park the ghost
Are we ever ready for change? Read "On getting ready."
Miracle Maddie Maddie’s back home in Florida after a wonderful week at the Austin Center for Developing Minds with Dr. Crawford in Austin, Texas. Maddie made great strides and Missy is getting ready for the next steps. She’s awaiting on the equipment necessary to continue treatment for Maddie at home. Maddie Girl during treatment. They stimulate one of Maddie’s neural pathways and then laser…
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I feel like not enough people talk about this subject and I feel like it’s a really, really important one to tackle, even if it is just by sharing my own personal opinion on it. I feel like a lot of writers are quite harsh when they set their own standards for what it means to be a ‘successful writer’. Many probably look at inspirational writers they love and think, ‘They have so many books published. I want to be just like them’ and they set the worth of their words by the accomplishments and achievements of another person. There’s nothing wrong with being inspired by another person, but I think it’s important to keep in mind that their path is not yours and the more individual you can be, the more you view your own work as distinctly yours, the happier you may become.
So to put this as simply as possible; if you write, you are a writer.
If you write, even if your words never see the light of day and even if you are falling short of the milestones you set yourself, you are still a writer. For me, being a writer is about that itch niggling at the back of your mind that compels you to create. When a blank page drives you insane because you cannot find the words to fill it, but you don’t give up because you have a story you simply need to share with the world, you are successful because you are achieving your own personal triumph every single time you bring a new sentence, a sentence only you can write, into existence.
A visual artist isn’t successful when they get a place in the Louvre. They are successful when they create. A writers worth isn’t judged by how many books they have, or how many copies they have sold, or how many interviews they have gotten. It is judged in the dark hours of the morning when they are faced with a blank screen, an idea and the impossible urge to bring it to life no matter what.
Hope this helps someone out there.
You might think that seeking honor in human society, striving to be respected and well-liked in the community has some kind of higher spiritual quality than seeking material wealth and material comfort. But it doesn’t really. Look underneath the appearances and you will see the same naked self-interest. With new eyes you will struggle to tolerate the hypocrisy in which people strive for good social standing – the desperation in their daily efforts may leave you a bit annoyed and a bit… bored. But this apathy when properly directed can actually lead you to some kind of pathos. Because it is with that same boredom that you may begin to look internally and feel the same indifference and detachment towards your own efforts for good social standing. Then you are free to give importance to that which actually is important, to live authentically, to meet hypocrisy, self-righteousness, and all manner of nonsense with apathy, to despise that which deserves to be despised, but also to adore that which deserves adoration, and to give shelter and love to that which is precious and actually deserving of love and protection.
The “love everyone and everything” philosophy that is so often being hawked nowadays, which you come across daily, it is fool’s gold. If you “love everyone and everything,” then of what value is your love?
You will bathe in your own lukewarm love until your skin prunes and the spineless, gelatinous mass that remains cannot reach out to touch, cannot lift up its voice, only gurgles reach the surface as the fat renders.
You were fortunate enough in your life to meet real human beings, true humanity – not sterilized, not anemic. They had blood to give, their blood boiled, their hatreds burned and flashed bright. But they also had love to give, they were not formless, their limbs could reach out to touch, their voices could whisper and cry out. They were fully formed, they were not children, they contained multitudes. They could survive.
You are like a lamb bled out and led to slaughter. But it is a dry season. Even the butcher won’t know what to do with you. Maybe you’ll make a good winter coat. And die just as you have lived: for comfort, and nothing else.
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Person A works as a coast guard, but finds a young child far away from shore and seemingly drowning, so Person A saves them. But when unable to find out about any shipwrecks or anything that might cause a child to be out to sea so far, they take the child home. But when helping the child wash up, they notice strange scales on the child’s skin and realizes they accidentally took home a mermaid kid.
So... The first part is here if anyone is curious.
Civilian was not avoiding Villain when they packed their bag full, with gadgets Villain had given them after Supervillain snapped Civilian off the streets a few months back. Besides, if Civilian was this capable at not being captured, Villain never had been able to hold them ‘hostage’ in the first place and neither of them would be dealing with this problem. Villain wasn’t even trying anymore and Civilian desperately tried to squash the aching in their chest whenever they saw Hero and Villain fighting.
With all of Villain’s intelligence, did they think Civilian was using them? That Civilian was manipulating them? Villain had to know them better than that. Civilian would prove it to them if they didn’t. Really, Civilian once believed Villain trusted them but with the current evidence… A part of Civilian died at the thought. They tried shaking it off before leaving the apartment but it clung to her under the day’s light.
Hero and Villain were fighting overhead again. Well, Villain’s bots and Hero were fighting overhead. Civilian didn’t even get to see Villain anymore. Sure, Villain fought, but it was only ever with their bots and a speaker booming their voice across the city. Villain was still sequestered away in their hideout that he had always refused to tell Civilian about. The only comfort Civilian found was in the fact that Villain was still alive even if they still sucked at keeping up their villainous personality to the public. Now that Villain wasn’t taking Civilian hostage every week, people didn’t see any damages caused by Villain. After all, he had kept the fighting up in the sky recently, safe from buildings and the like.
It wouldn’t be all that hard to look like a villain though. All Villain had to do was destroy a few houses and they could remind everyone of their supposedly dastardly personality. But no, Villain didn’t bother inducing any fear at all. If Civilian had the intelligence he had, and was, you know, a villain, they would have found it easy to put at least the city under their own thumb. Civilian hadn’t realized just how terrible of a villain Villain was.
They kind of sucked at this villainy thing. They built genuinely powerful bots but their demands were always… lackluster. Especially since the last time Civilian saw them. Hero seemed to think Villain set up traps and had announced as such every time Villain made another demand.
“You will come to the Generic Warehouse,” his voice boomed across the city. “I have some conditions to discuss.
Great, now Civilian had a destination in mind. They knew where that warehouse was. It wasn’t too far. Villain, after all, had a habit of staying on the North side of the town. They kept moving as Hero’s voice echoed in the sky in some form of response. Honestly, Civilian had no idea why Hero thought Villain was even capable of setting up a trap. Villain just didn’t think that way. They were too straightforward and tactless.
Then again, Villain tried too hard when making demands. In the last few weeks, they would constantly assert that they had demands but refused to talk about it in public. The stubborn idiot refused to do anything normal. If Villain just explained themself, Civilian was sure that things could be settled.
And not just the hero stuff. Civilian really needed to talk to Villain about last time. Civilian hadn’t gotten to explain and now Villain was ignoring them. Sure, not being kidnapped was nice for the first few days but it was eating away at their heart. Villain didn’t need to return their feelings but, at the very least, they shouldn’t just ignore Civilian like that. At this point, Civilian just wanted to know where they stood. They thought they were friends at least, but then shouldn’t Villain put forth some effort if that was the case?
The whole situation stressed them out and the anxiety only spiked when they approached the warehouse. Civilian could do this. Civilian knew they could. But maybe they were being a bit too clingy. Maybe Civilian should turn around and let Villain deal with their own stuff. Civilian didn’t need Villain in their life if Villain shut Civilian out so easily. But, they realized, Civilian didn’t want to lose them either.
Taking a deep breath in, Civilian knelt and started picking the lock. A skill learned after getting caught by Villain one too many times. The door swung open silently.
Sneaking around was stressful.
Civilian hadn’t snuck around in years. How did Villain do this? A new origin of respect for the villain sparked in their chest but they smothered it. No need to have their heart broken another way.
“I’m fine.” Civilian muttered to themself, repeating the mantra in hopes of keeping a steady heartbeat. As steady as it could be whenever Villain was concerned.
Villain had been doing a lot, it seemed. Yellow lights illuminated the half-completed bots and papers scattering the room. Smells of oil and grease clung to the dry air. It almost felt like home. Which was wrong but it felt comfortable nonetheless. Civilian hated that they may have to leave all of this behind after today. they’d miss the place.
They stalked through the building, careful not to touch any of the discarded robots. Not wanting to do any damage. This was Villain’s haven, and Civilian was already intruding. Maybe it would be better to go back home. Villain seemed to be doing fine and he had already abandoned her.
“Hero, just come to the warehouse, already,” they heard a voice say in tandem with the flying bot. “I just want to talk.”
“You can make your demands here, Villain.” A staticky version of Hero’s voice replied.
Civilian followed the voices and soon noticed a ghoulish blue light coming from a dark hallway.
“Come on, Hero,” Villain said, “have I ever actually trapped you before? Worse comes to worse you can just punch me, right?” Hero didn’t respond this time. “Bring an EMP if that makes you feel better.”
“Why should I?” Hero asked in that annoying confidence as Civilian pushed the door open. Civilian took in the sight. There were dishes laying about and a Villain slouched at the controls of his bot. The screen they were staring at displayed Hero while Villain operated the bot on pure muscle memory.
“I want to talk,” Villain said.
“Funny, me too.” This time it was Civilian who spoke.
“Holy—” Villain had jumped in their seat and began losing control of the bot as the image displayed started spiraling towards the ground, destined to turn to static when Hero defeated it.
Villain turned in their seat towards Civilian, “What are you doing?” they asked slight anger lying behind the obvious surprise.
Civilian’s stomach was plummeting and suddenly this didn’t seem like a good idea. Still though, they tried soldiering on. “We need to talk.”
“Now? Villain asked. “How did you even find me?”
Civilian scoffed, “Really? You broadcasted it to everyone.”
“But I was talking to Hero, not you.”
Civilian just had to keep smiling. Smiling kept the pain away. “I can leave if you want,” they said, fighting against the strain in their throat. “I don’t have to stay if you don’t want me to.”
Villain stood up and got closer and for a moment Civilian thought they would hug and Villain would say that they wanted Civilian to stay. It didn’t happen. It was probably wishful thinking anyway.
“Civilian,” Villain said, their stupid good-looking face softening into a gentle look. “Is everything okay?”
“Of course,” Civilian said maintaining their smile. No wishful thinking here. Nope. Civilian was great. Civilian could work with this. It looked like Villain would at least want to stay friends. Civilian could work with that.
“Is this about last time?” Villain asked. “I didn’t mean to pressure you or anything. You should’ve revealed it on your own time and I’m sorry. You don’t have to worry about that.”
“Thanks!” Civilian said. “What? Were you scared that I’d hate you or something?” they teased. Teasing was easy, especially when it made Villain turn all bashful and pink. It was cute. “The big bad Villain worried about their favorite hostage’s feelings? How sweet.”
“Did you just come here to flirt?” Villain asked, groaning in shame and hiding their expression behind a hand. Worry flitted in Civilian’s chest. Villain never hid their emotions. “You’re ruining all my plans,” they said.
Civilian shrugged with the smile plastered back on, “Your plans rarely work anyway.”
“I’m serious! What if Hero blew everything up with you in here?”
“Awe, you are worried.”
“Yes, I am!” Villain yelled, throwing their hands up. “I’m trying to get pardoned and lose the villain status and you’re ruining everything.”
“Oh. I’m sorry,” Civilian said, not thinking about how Villain didn’t want anything to do with them. So much so that Villain was abandoning his villainy. Civilian had to focus on their own smile instead. Smile, they ordered themself, just keep smiling. Civilian begged the universe to keep Villain from noticing the tears pricking at the corners of their eyes and focus on the smiling instead. “If you’re busy, I can go.”
“No! I didn’t mean it like that,” Villain panicked with flailing arms. Civilian hummed, not trusting their own voice anymore. Civilian didn’t know how much more of this they could take right now. This was a bad idea Civilian realized as they looked away from Villain.
“Civilian, I’m serious,” Villain said. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” they snapped, “For getting mad? What about ignoring me? You completely abandoned me.”
“I didn’t mean to,” Villain said, cheating again. Their voice was soft and small and sincere. Villain wasn’t supposed to act kindly. Not when Civilian realizied their feelings needed to be thrown out.
Villain sighed. “I like you too,” they said, “and I don’t mean platonically.” Civilian felt the surprise take over the strangling smile, and, when civilian looked back to them, Villain was shuffling nervously without taking their eyes off Civilian. “But right now, if we try this,” Villain gestured between the two of them, “thing between us, you’re going to be dating a criminal. A villain even. We can’t put you in that position. As soon as I can get my pardon, everything will be fine. I promise.”
“That’s a terrible plan.”
“You say that about all my plans,” Villain whined.
Civilian felt a quasi-smile creep onto their face, “Well, maybe you suck at planning.”
“So I’ve been told,” Villain said, looking cute and determined, “But, now that you know, you don’t have to worry.”
“Don’t I get a say in this?” Civilian asked, “I knew what was entailed when I nurtured these feelings. Sure, you can keep on doing your hairbrained schemes but, I’m going to be beside you.”
Civilian shushed the villain, “I’m sure you have hundreds of valid reasons to keep me away but I’m just going to keep coming to bug you. You deserve it after all those times you kidnapped me.”
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“After the week I’ve had?” Civilian asked, “No. If you like me too, I’m going to stay by your side as much as possible.”
“Are you sure?” Villain asked. “What if this is Stockholm syndrome or something. You may not even like me.”
Civilian reached out and held Villain’s hand, “You’re an idiot.”
It was a relief when Villain relaxed and a comfort when Villain threw their arms around Civilian. This was good. This could work. They’d both do their best to make it work. Civilian could believe in that.
"So, what is my role in this whole shenanigan situation?"
"I thought you could be the driver."
I just want to live on the internet so I can make internet friends that take up my time and not have to force myself to live in the real world and try to awkwardly find people that have interest like me. Im too antisocial for that.
My Doodles; We All Need A Hug
You should hold a knife to my throat
Not in a sexy way
In a way that could kill me
You could stop me from thinking
With just a line across my neck
You should press a knife into my throat
Not in a fun way
In a way that could hurt me
You could stop me from breathing
With just a slash under my jaw
Sometimes storytelling is just writing fanfiction for your own characters.
ID: A man pointing to his head and smiling.
i have no saying on my death,
partial saying on my living;
but not free
Text: Someone at the Witch’s Carnival was spinning wind into a soft and edible floss. Too much at once would make you dangerously reckless.
Does anyone else get this feeling, when you see an AU that you like, but you want to make your own version of it?
Like, say someone is writing what if Vlad Master wasn’t a ghost and you enjoy it, but you want to write your own version of the story and do things the OP wouldn’t do, or take the story on a different direction, or anything
Because I get that, I get that a lot. I watched Maquia and now I have a billions characters based on the premise, I read what if Weiss and Yang were switched at birth and I want to write it, I saw what if Ozpin had adopted Weiss and Whitley and I want to do my own.