There’s this illness going around, chikungunya, and everyone’s got it or is trying to finally shake it off. Mercifully, all I’ve got is a mild flu and that says something. I don’t mean to boast but when there’s some nasty like that around I’m usually the last to get it or not at all. People keep telling me that I’m going to get it. Seriously, like can you not be happy for me?
I’ve been in no mindset whatsoever to blog, hardly to even read your stuff. What makes everything better, or at least to a good extent, is re-watching Avatar: The Last Air Bender, from start to finish, something I’ve never had the chance to to before. I’m currently at the second book, Earth, somewhere around chapter sixteen. It’s by far the best anime I’ve laid eyes on.
I’m picking up A Storm of Swords again as well as The Hobbit. I’ve mainly been reading Thea Harrison’s Elder Races series. I’ve yet to put them on Goodreads. If I have to give a collective rating it would be around 3.5 stars approaching a solid 4 stars, but I have to say it’s not what some people would consider their cup of tea.
Germany vs. Argentina. Damn.
Two of my most favourite teams. All I could have hoped for was for at least some one winning or at least a tie but not ever at nil-nil.
Ugh the gut wrenching that went on in our living room. Yellow cards, trips and flips. Stubbornly refusing to cede a goal, or that was, until Mario Gotze shocked us with that neat shot! Oh my God, that was a surprise.
Argentina might have lost but boy did they defend! (on the whole, that is, *ahem*) Romero, though. I honestly thought they couldn’t have gotten past him.
They both played brilliantly!
… I think that is the most epic in this podcast (Welcome to Night Vale) ever, (and I must say Kevin pulled it of damn well) with the NV music swelling to a high and Kevin and Lauren we frozen in their Strex-made underwears. With fear. Of the man holding the cat (an Erika the *whispers* angel).
Okay … how shall I tell this one?
I was awaiting June the 1st with unhealthy anticipation. It was Sunday so I had chores to get done. I was about to collapse in a hot heap when I remembered why I was supposed to be so stoked! In this heat, shirts were for losers so I ditched mine and locked myself up in my room and sprawled on my bed, cradling my phone.
This magnificent piece of art it’s not mine. Via videntefernandez.tumblr.com. Please click image to see source.
What the hell. Let me just say that I had lost my marbles temporarily. It was good that I was alone but I think my family heard me because the gave me those knowing looks of concern.
So here’s a section of the transcript for this episode:48, Renovations. (The following are parts from the transcript I found at Cecil Speaks). It’s kind of long, but it would be cool it you read it through :) Continue reading
Van Gogh inspired fanart. Via Pinterest, click to see the pin.
So I’ve finished Doctor Who and am where everyone else is at, awaiting the rein of Peter Capaldi. My body spasms in tears and the time in between them can extend for days. I cry in quiet little tremors and every tear is like an arrow that leaks through the cracks in my skin and strikes my singular human heart. It is finally sinking in that Matt is not The Doctor on screen anymore. I mean, and we all can agree, that he – like the other magnificent men – will always be The Doctor. Our Doctor.
It bites every time a face is lost to time, if you know what I mean. Matt, oh, Matt. Ugh. I can’t ever say anything proper. I love him unlike any other. The funny thing is that at the beginning, I acknowledged him as the enigmatic Time Lord before I realized he was an actor. I mean that in a good way, and there are some bad ways it could go because I understand that some actors don’t like to be stuck in our minds just as a particular character. Matt, nah. He seems to bathe in every second of it.
I … I just. Oh for the love of custard and fish bits! I’ll spit it out. His Doctor was one who was filled with the pain on the inside but tried to cover it up under this ever fresh coat of happy paint; fresh because he mostly means it. He was the optimist, the best friend (and the son-in-law, hehe), ever the fighter and believer in dreams and bow-ties and fezzes. Matt’s energy and well-spring of vitality always always makes me feel better about myself and this world, more than any of the previous two had. I haven’t emphasized enough on how much of a goof he was but it was so obvious to us Whovians. Continue reading
(US and International suicide hotlines at the end)
Dear fellow humans,
If you made it past a really bad yesterday it means that you’re still here today, able to reach a computer, your eyes aren’t burning badly and too blurry from exhaustion. That’s a lot than what some people can say, the ones that collapse into an unconscious heap, sleep-starved. I don’t know what your life is like so I’m not going to pretend that I do but I have an idea of how it can knock a body down.
It’s extremely saddening to hear when someone gives up on the whole business of existing. Suicide isn’t the solution. If anything, it makes life even more terrible for those still alive. This is issue has been plaguing me off and on for the past few months; why is it so appealing? Oblivion? But what use is that? When so many people are fighting every second, grabbing with hands and feet onto the thread that still binds them to life.
“There’s no such thing as an ordinary human.”
~The (ninth) Doctor
To friends and family and co-workers and even strangers
I understand it’s difficult to spot when when someone is thinking about committing suicide but whenever you see a friend depressed or withdrawn, try to talk to them. A lot of people feel unloved and not cared for, that they’re so insignificant that their absence won’t even matter. Show them that you’re there whenever they need you.
I honestly can’t remember where I found this and I sincerely hope it’s not something I could be sued over.
To you, the suicidal
Don’t do it. Please please please don’t. You’re so much more than nothing. You can turn around if you try and you really have to try. If not for your sake now, think about the family and friends and the strangers you’ll never meet, because you can affect everyone of them. One man caused the holocaust, he made that difference. So what change can you, a good person, make?
“900 years of time and space and I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t important.”
- The (tenth) Doctor
You can be so much more. There might not be anyone else there for you but you. You are all that you have and you can be strong. I know, personally, someone who very nearly killed herself for the most stupid reason and today she see’s what a fool she was. Not all worries are stupid, or inconsequential but if you’re still breathing the next day, well, it means that it hasn’t destroyed you. If you can survive another day then you can do it again, again … and a thousand other days.
ANOTHER FANDOM JOINED! In other news … Haha, some of you will fail to be surprised. In all truth I began listening to this podcast since the beginning of the year and perhaps regular lurkers would guessed if they have noticed my background that’s been on for about a month and a half now. Have you ever heard of it? No? *gasps* Now, I’m am not one to aggressively attempt to induct the uninitiated … but, like, seriously Check This Out! Night Vale in a few words: weird, creepy, L-O-L hilarious especially if you’ve got a dark sense of humour, uplifting and philosophical.
I am incapable of conveying what WTNV is about so as per usual I will quote somebody.
That calm, soothing voice communicates everything you need to know about the weirdest little town in the middle of nowhere. The words greet listeners in the first episode Welcome to Night Vale, a bi-weekly podcast created by Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Cranor.
The podcast presents a fictional radio broadcast from the desert town of Night Vale, emceed by its most popular radio host, Cecil Baldwin. Cecil discusses the daily occurrences of the town: news from the forbidden dog park, a new revelation from Old Woman Josie and her angels, or the mayoral race between The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Your Home (played by Mara Wilson) and the five-headed dragon fugitive Hiram McDaniels (played by Jackson Publick).
The show is currently second on iTunes’ list of top podcasts and has amassed a huge following on Tumblr.
- Sara Roncero-Menendez, Mashable.com
Smash the link to read more. I had no idea how weird I can be until listening to Cecil’s dulcet tones enunciating the impossible and the impossibility of existence (or his anyway).
A few reasons why I appreciate (a more mild alternative of wild adoration) WTNV in no particular order: Continue reading
Currently watching Doctor Who ‘The Angels take Manhattan’ and I am freaking out. I watch this a year ago, the last bit, without knowing any of the back story of the show and now that I’m in the know it’s a hundred times devastating!
That is all, my friends, that is all.
Good night, and beware of the Angels.
What do you treasure? What’s most important to you?
IN A NEW POST CREATED SPECIFICALLY FOR THIS PHOTO CHALLENGE CAPTURE SOMETHING YOU TREASURE.
When I think about treasure I think of them. They’re little people now but I can’t wait to see what kind of grown ups they’ll be years from now. It’s a privilege to be their big sister, I get to influence them, to make them be good and kind. I love them missing teeth, scarped knees, weird giggles and all. They fill my days with screamed warnings and annoyance but at the same time make me laugh and feel better when I’m stranded. They anchor me in a world that’s bent on challenging my will. Such days will come for all of ‘em and I’ll be there to get them through it. That’s what we do with our treasures, we protect them.
If you could wake up tomorrow and be fluent in any language you don’t currently speak, which would it be? Why? What’s the first thing you do with your new linguistic skills?
Photographers, artists, poets: show us TONGUE.
- February 10th
This is a toughie. I eventually want to teach English as a foreign language so I had narrowed down a few but asking me now to pick one, hmmm. I think I’ll tie with French and Italian. I’m breaking the rules here, but everyone love a rebel, right?
If I magically become fluent in French I’d jump at the chance to explore the lesser known art exhibits, where I believe a few jems are tucked away. I love the breathy, lilting sound of French words, the faraway feelings the evoke withing me. It sounds pretty.
If I woke up speaking Italian like a native: restaurants. Seriously. I hear authentic Italian food are to die for. It’s like a bonus because while I stuff my face I’ll have a lovely view out of what ever window I’d look out of. Like French, Italian to me is very expressive and … seems more alive than most of the languages I can recall ever hearing.
Both languages are romantic and I find their respective countries rich in culture that I’d love to study and experience. Both shoots a thorough dose of fernweh (which is German, by the way) though me.