Our psychological state allows us to see only what we want/need/feel to see at a particular time. What five words do you see?
this scares me a little
read, suicide, lust, fool, leave
Um… >.> Is it just me or did a random crossword just send me anon hate? XD
Really though, I don’t want to see mentions of suicide thanks. Reading is great. Lust is not my thing. I’m not a fool thank you very much. And I do intend to leave because you, dear crossword, (or dear brain if op is right), are rude.
I’m not crying. You’re crying.
My house is for sale again. The house I grew up in, where I learned to walk and talk. The porch on which I fought to overcome my stutter and stammer. The living room where I learned to read. The mountains where I helped carry logs for firewood from the time I could walk on my own. The driveway I had to roll UP one particularly harsh winter as a toddler. The walkout basement where a childhood dog went nuts over a weasel, beady little eyes poking up between the woodpile. Where another dog couldn’t grasp the concept of being snowed in until she ran head first into a wall of snow. Where deer wander freely and bring their families to eat your porch pumpkins. Where moose can be spotted from a distance and mountain bluebirds light the sky with their color. MY home overlooking the lake. That incredible beautiful lake in those wonderful mountains. Where the sunsets set the water on fire and storms tear it apart with white caps. That lake which never looks the same twice, shades of blue shifting around like some giant’s fiber optic crystal ball.
It’s for sale at a price I will soon be able to afford. If that house doesn’t sell before winter sets in, I’m putting mine up and buying it. My house cleaning and yard sale gathering has just become a question game of “What do I not want to pack to move?”
I set an intention for this a year ago to the DAY. And now it’s possible. I’ve cried so much and so hard and cackled like some kind of evil scientist. I literally laid on my bedroom floor when I saw the price and kicked my feet like some little kid. I’m going home. I am going home. I am moving back. I’m getting my house back. I’m going home. I don’t know how many times I’m going to have to say and type and think that before it finally sinks in that it’s really happening. I’m going home. A place I’ve regretted leaving for nearly 20yrs. Moving away was not my choice. But moving back is. I’m going home…..
2hrs later but the card is done. It’s pretty kickass. Tribal wolf dog thing. Tribal is my fastest drawing style, so that’s what he gets. But it’s still nice! I mean, I still do it by hand and all… It just takes 2hrs instead of 2 days. >.>
Letting this episode of Merlin finish playing and then I have to go to bed. Quick shower, because it was a really hot sunny day today, and then sleep. I wish there was time for a long salt soak, but I’m afraid I’ll be in no shape to spend a day with family if I don’t get some sleep. I’m running on 2.5hrs and 2 energy drinks right now and I’m about dead. Cannot deal with family strain if I feel like this when I wake up again.
Sorry about that. Busy busy out here this weekend and tomorrow is no exception to that. It’s going to be a very long day and it starts in just a few hours. 4.5hrs and the sun will be up so I’ll have to go digging weeds out of the garden. Then get ready to spend the day with family who’ve come down from Canada. Then go home and work as hard as I can on everything that needs doing before I collapse in a heap.
I have to draw a card for a friend’s birthday before I can take a bath and get some sleep. It’s times like these I wish I could just print an image out of my head. So much quicker and easier than doing all the work by hand.
Claiming there is no other life in the universe is like scooping up some water, looking at the cup and claiming there are no whales in the ocean.
#this is just such a fucking sassy remark like#it sounds like something my mother would say to my spoiled sister#i never really stopped to think about it before but damn steve#it’s almost childish you are being a chiLD (via marvelobsessions)
That’s why I love it so much though. Because it’s so, so easy to forget this — SHIELD constantly forgets this — but Steve *is* a child. He was twenty-six years old and terrified when he died. And to him, that was maybe ten days ago. Just — ten days ago, he died. Eleven days ago, he watched his best friend and protector fall to his death in a clusterfuck he will always believe was his fault. Ten days ago, he died while the listening to Peggy cry on the other end of a static-filled radio. Ten days ago, he was still in 1945. He was supposed to leave it; it wasn’t supposed to leave him. And he woke up, and everyone he loved was gone, and now he’s confronted with an agency that’s lying to him about everything and he’s just found in their storage facility the exact weapon that killed the person he loved most and he’s arguing with a man who looks far too much like someone he called a friend, who he knows now is dead, who died violently in a car crash, and he doesn’t know Tony well enough to know this is how he deals with fear, so to him, this is just…someone with money, with all the privilege and padding he and Bucky never had, who would never have to go to war if he didn’t want to, making light of a situation way too close to Steve’s chest.
Steve was being prickly as hell through most of this movie, but he was bleeding out and in pain and had no one to bleed on. The comment he makes to Tony, about knowing guys with none of that worth ten of him? Imagine all of the people he was thinking about then. All of the people he knew he’d never see again; who he wished he wasn’t standing there to never see again. Trying to organize a time bomb and remembering the Commandos. Trying to co-lead with a man he doesn’t yet understand, and remembering Bucky. Trying so hard not to keep seeing him fall. Being expected to be above all of those messy human emotions, because he’s Captain America, and while he was asleep that name became a legend so much bigger than any real, living person could be.
He’s only twenty-six.
I just made myself sad.