absolutely breaking down, sobbing, at this
absolutely breaking down, sobbing, at this
The Girl Behind the Gates by Brenda Davies
“Is that how she is to be known? An unmarried mother? A moral defective? What happened to just “Nora”?” (more…)
View On WordPress
ISFJ and INFJ: *discussing how to word a phrase in a card*
ISFJ: I'll think of some way to put it eloquently
INFJ: Yeah I'm not any good at that
ISFJ: Neither am I
INFJ: This will not go well
Me about to watch a series :
Let me perform a thorough research on it by looking up the genre, the reviews, the cast, their interrelationships, etc.
Me choosing my career :
God I leave it to you. Guide me in the right path.
i feel like an almond cookie kinnie-
cuz there's a bunch of stray cats coming to our house and my parents asked if we'll keep them and we did-
True story. 👍
I'M ACTUALLY GONNA GET TO DO THE A LADY ANIMATIC. I'M SO FUCKING EXCITED.
Happy anniversary to the time I ripped my arm open on a tree and could've bled out in the hospital after the check in nurse slapped a bandage over my shirt instead of looking cause he assumed I was fine before sending me to wait in hospital room for 3 hours
ay if you're wanting to get into animation but all of the programs you're finding are difficult to use at best, look into Animation Paper. it's only in beta right now, but if you make an account you can get the beta version for free and honestly? as a free program it works Great. it does exactly what I want, and I'm not constantly fighting the program and spending more time trying to do basic things like erase than actually, ya know, animating. this is the first time in... gods, six years of trying to get into animation? it's actually been fun for me. I nearly burst into tears when I realized I might get to finish an animatic I've been wanting to do. please look into Animation Paper
Writing makes a person crazy because everything in a story has symbolism so after awhile of that you start assigning way too much importance to tiny mishaps in your life.
14 years ago
It was bedtime and maa had just made my bed when I heard the front door open. Papa was home from work and I could hear bhai running to see papa and tell him random stuff. I bet papa listened to everything, despite being tired. After that, he came to my room, "Look what I got you" he said, and extended a book to me. I was confused as he had never brought me a book before. It was a book called Panchatantra. A story of an old rishi who gives life lessons to his five shishyas at the gurukul through stories about nature and animals. I was excited about getting my first book and begrudgingly, maa let me stay up later than usual. That night, sprawled on my bed, I was entranced and fascinated by all the different stories and scenes and talking animals. The next morning, I woke up by myself and finished the entire book by noon.
The next thing I know, I'm collecting comics and storybooks and getting addicted to them. Piling up tinkle comics, Archie's and Amar Chitra Katha was my only goal. Every train journey to my native place involved dragging papa to the railway station bookstore and getting myself a comic book for the train ride. I begged my parents to subscribe to storybooks along with the daily morning newspaper, and they relented after a lot of coaxing. Then, every Monday morning I'd wait eagerly for the newspaper boy to deliver my weekly dose of happiness with books of chacha Choudary, chandamama, and champak. Soon, this became an obsession that even my parents started noticing. Maa began hiding my copies of storybooks during the exams and giving them back only after all my exams were done. I began pestering papa to get me more and more books every day. Sometimes he would get me a double digest edition of tinkle and I'd be ecstatic and over the moon. It's amazing how something so small and silly used to make me so happy. I'd re-read the same books once I'd gone through my entire stash of new books. Out of desperation, I'd read anything I could lay my hands on. In school, we used to get all our term textbooks a month before the reopening of a new academic year and my English textbooks fell prey to this obsession of mine. I'd know all the lessons and stories by heart before the school year started. I think that was one of the reasons for the nerd label I got in school. I even started reading stories from the Bible, borrowing storybooks from another girl in my neighborhood. Little did I know that this was only the beginning.
10 years ago
One fine summer afternoon, bhai was busy watching tv in the living room and maa and papa were at work. We had free rein on the tv as it was the summer holidays and I had free rein on my books. I was lazing around in my room and started searching the entire house for something new to read. And finally, I found a book among bhai's things. It was probably a gift. It wasn't a comic book or a usual storybook. This one was an actual book. A novel. And it had no pictures. I was skeptical but boredom got the best of me and I decided to read a few pages to pass the time. It was a hardy boys book, written by Franklin W Dixon. After reading a few pages, my 11-year-old brain almost exploded with fascination. The style of writing, the mystery, the suspense of the entire book drew me in completely and I knew then, this was a turning point in my life where books are concerned. I felt almost grown-up. And so I read the 200 page novel with wide eyes and a bursting heart in 3 hours, without even getting up to pee. I went and told bhai about the new book I read. He laughed it off. I told maa and papa when they came back from work. "That's good beta", they said. I was disappointed that they didn't feel the same exhilaration that I did. Papa still got my books whenever I asked him. For the second time, I found myself collecting and piling up books. All of the hardy boys and Nancy drew collections. Once again, I was entranced, trapped yet alive like never before in a whole new world.
After that, a multitude of options lay before me. I dived headfirst into reading mystery and moved onto classics written by Charles Dickens, The Bronté sisters, Mary Shelly, and even a dash of Shakespeare. I fell in love with David Copperfield, Oliver twist, treasure island, Jane Eyre and Frankenstein.
But eventually, buying books so often became a chore and at the pace I was reading, with one book hardly lasting a day, we couldn't afford to buy as many books. So, then one day, maa and I set out on a goose chase all over the city looking for libraries where I could borrow books from. At last, we found an old government library inside an even older building that looked almost haunted. And as we bravely stepped into the barely holding up building, we only found old uncles reading newspapers and gossiping. Thankfully, there was a rack of English fiction. Just one single rack. Although mildly disappointed, I was determined to make do with that. I got myself a membership plan and my reading palette had its first taste of Indian authors. That one rack had a fair collection of young adult books, standalone contemporary novels which sated my hunger for quite some time. While other people gushed over my habit of reading books, my parents were a little concerned. But as I started writing my own speeches in school, improved in my speaking skills, I'm sure they were convinced and over time, I think they accepted this obsession of mine. Or at the very least, were forced to.
6 years ago.
My love for reading only grew and now I had a book beside me during breakfast, lunch, and dinner which my parents barely tolerated. I even started planting a book in every corner of my house for easy access, under the coffee table, by my bed, on my study table. While kids my age sneaked mobile phones under their pillows, I sneaked in books to read.
After a few years, I finally met a kindred spirit with a shared love for reading. He was older than me and introduced me to books by Dan Brown. I listened with rapt attention to the plot of the book and I immediately knew that my days of reading hardy boys and young adult books were over. It's crazy how transitioning between genres and different types of books made me feel older and mature over the years. Few pages into the Da Vinci code and I fell, hook, line, and sinker. I finished the entire 500-page book in a day. Back then, I was pretty adamant about having my own copies of books and collecting them, which I guess stemmed from my childhood obsession with collecting comics. Soon, I'd exhausted the books at the old library and had no other option but to trade in my precious books for second-hand books at a wholesale book store very far away from home. Because they were at a secondhand rate, I could now afford more books and although the pages were worn out and yellowed, I was happy. The already folded pages, notes in the corners of some pages jotted down by the previous owner made me feel oddly connected and attached.
As I grew up and left my teenage years behind, life and boards got in my way and there were gaps when I couldn't read no matter how hard I tried. But once I found my way back to books. I knew what I was missing and knew that I would never stop reading again. I still read books by Dan Brown, Sydney Sheldon, and Nora Roberts. I found quite a few talented Indian authors. Books by Durjoy Dutta and Ravinder Singh made me fall in love with contemporary romance and light humor. I've moved on to reading books on my phone now. I miss turning pages of an actual book, but on the bright side, I get to read countless books anytime and anywhere I want. I've explored many genres over the years, murder and crime thrillers, romance, contemporary, dark fiction, and comedy, and read them accordingly when the mood strikes.
If there's one thing that has been a constant through my childhood, it has been books. Reading is a huge part of my life and very close to my heart. Words and writing mean so much to me. Books have been my solace, my safe place, my companions as I grew up, my fantasy land, and my hiding place all rolled into one. I've cried, loved, smiled, and laughed with books and I can't describe how utterly grateful I am to maa and papa for getting me my first book when I was just 7 and letting me explore my love for reading.
Although, there's one thing I'd like to admit. There's this one genre that I've never read - non-fiction and strangely, I'm still very skeptical about it. But you never know, over time I might come to like that as well!
he only has an hour between shifts at his jobs so when he comes home I’m already waiting with my face down hips up and he can take all his stress out on me. he can drill my holes and use me as many times as he wants in the time that he has, and I take it for him and tell him that I’m all his. if it’s been a hard day at work he makes it merciless, and for that short hour I exist only for him to release all the pressure of the day, to serve him, to be his good boy. he takes all the advantage of me and then heads right off to his next job, leaving me alone again, a dripping, shaky mess
to be completely transparent the only thing i truly deeply want from botw 2 is the opportunity to be peak pretentious through getting to say I WAS RIGHT regarding my monk theory.
if i get disproven... well that doesn't mean i was wrong, it just means the devs are cowards-
“And that’s the story of how I saw a werewolf in City Park while eating a tostada in 2003.”
idk how you all maintain your writing discipline. I want to write this Chozen character study that I've got the broad strokes of in my head but as I'm researching and thinking about them I wish it was already written so I can get to the next part of the series and have Daniel make him some pre-WWII style chanpuru that he used to make side by side with Mr. Miyagi and then have Chozen laugh at him for how traditional and old-style that is while secretly being charmed and warmed. He makes Daniel some taco rice in return.
Obv Daniel found the recipe in one of those Okinawa books he had checked out from the library, decides to surprise Mr. Miyagi with it. At first he's going to make with the spam but Mr. Miyagi's like lmao I had enough of that for a lifetime No Thanks, so he switches it out for some guanciale or whatever fish Mr. Miyagi happened to catch that day.
He can't find bitter melon at any of the grocery stores but one day notices some growing as a weed along somebody's front porch and swipes a few of the fruit, plants them in Miyagi's garden. Turns out California's got the perfect temperature to sustain them. They're not quite the same, don't grow quite as large, but the taste is just right.
Man, I graduated a couple days ago and I was hanging around the venue with a couple friends (one of whom also graduated) and we saw a couple furries (one of whom had a rainbow flag in their mouth) and I yelled “rainbow gang!” and they waved at me and later they came over and the one with the flag high-fived me and they both congratulated us. Moral of the story: leave furries alone, they just wanna have fun and be chill and dress up as giant stuffed animals!
(This really happened to me)
I have a job as a waitress, and today an older man, maybe in his late 70s or early 80s came into the restaurant and sat down by himself. I took his drink order, and when I came back with his drink, I noticed he had a book with him, so I asked him what he was reading. He explained to me that his son had wrote a book about him and included important events from each year of his life. Since we were slow, he showed me some of the pictures in it and told me about a few things that were important to him. When he found a picture of him and his wife from when they were in their 60s (it sounded like the wife was deceased, but I didn’t want to ask about it), he said “That’s me and my wife...my wife was the most beautiful woman in the entire world.” And I could tell from his voice that he meant it with all his heart. I could tell he was still in love with her, even though she had left this Earth, and I know he will love her for the rest of his life. If that’s not true love, I don’t know what is. I thought this was just so cute, and I had to share.
So here’s my word of advice from this story. Find someone who would keep loving you even after your death, and find someone that you could do the same for. Be sure that your love for each other can’t be broken, even by death. Find someone who loves you as much as this man loves his wife, and return that same love.
Please feel free to reblog, and I hope you use this advice.
me whenever I have a slight scratch on my hand: oh boy i sure hope someone asks me about this slight scratch on my hand so I can give a detailed explanation about the minut thing that happened to me
anyway THIS scratch is from a feral cat that I found, I named them moth;;;; this one is from a VERY mean wall;;;;;