MJ @ehmjey - Tumblr Blog

"You break your heart against this stony world. You fling yourself at it, on the side of good, and you do not ask the cost. That's how you do it."

I would die for Amber actually

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willowjh

Amber failing Wintrow as a catalyst and still bringing back dragons and helping end slavery in the cursed shores was perhaps her most insane move as a white prophet

i just read the liveship traders/ship of destiny and i am so obsessed with the realm of the elderlings series already

liveship didn’t catch me as much as farseer most of the time but the third book connected and resolved all the storylines sooo nice and omg did i root for all of the vestrits

and i am so excited for tawny man after the hints of it in ship of destiny again, i love amber so much

#rote #liveship traders #farseer trilogy #robin hobb #fuck captain kennit

minimalistquotes

What doesn't kill you makes you weird at intimacy

letsbelonelytogetherr

— Franz Kafka // Richard Siken

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letting go, moving on

it feels like I‘m starting to let go of you, of the possibility of us. I don’t know when it started, when being excited to see your name on my social media, being excited to maybe have a reason to interact, to start a conversation, when that excitement turned into sadness, a feeling of distance, resignation. I can’t say I reached acceptance yet, but it feels like after so, so long, after months and years of always secretly holding out hope, i stopped. And now I‘m just outside looking in. Two people whose paths crossed long ago and who then wandered near each other over and over but now we're just waving to each other from the distance. Each going their own way, building new lives and moving further apart with each step. Maybe it was lack of trying, maybe because we were afraid of risking it when we had the chance, we trying to take steps towards each other since then, both not ready to accept that it just wasn’t enough to close the distance life had created, no matter how much we wished it was. at least i was trying. but now? maybe it was when i decided to stay here, maybe that was what always holding me back from accepting the inevitable. or you were holding me back from choosing my current life. always living in the past and the future, never the present. a future that will never come true. and maybe when i finally chose to not run away from the present, maybe that was when i finally started to let go, look forward at what my path holds for me and not desperately trying to make it cross with yours again.

#stream of consciousness #diary #a cliche almost situation #writing #love #lovers to strangers #something to strangers

petrichara

“You’ve gotta choose to better yourself” sounds like a stupid easier-said-than-done rhetoric but it’s TRUE. Do you expect to feel better by doing the same things that make you sad? Do you think everything will change if nothing does? You’ve gotta open the curtains and let the light in. Sit in the sun like a cat and soak up some water like a plant. Turn the moody playlist off and listen to something that doesn’t make you want to acquaint with a cliff edge. Eat an orange. I’m not saying you can override a mental illness or become happy in a day. But you get choices, and you’ve gotta choose to care for yourself. Sadness can be comforting and so is whatever is normal for us. New normal is good. You’ve gotta choose to be kind to yourself

manicpussydreamboi

my obsession with the tenderness of love vs. my stubborn independence and fear of intimacy fight

generational rage

I don't have generational trauma, I have generational rage.

i have generational rage inside me for all the women before me, for all the women who had less rights, who had the world against them and and fought regardless. who rose up to face off against all the odds, against all the obstacles built in their way. because they had to. because they didn't have to but still did. for us. for me.

i have generation rage inside me for all the women who still have to fight today.

#feminism #support women #generational rage #writing as a coping mechanism

ehmjey

what i am made of

faith - in people, in good, in the future

the belief that everyone should have the freedom to choose

hope, always, even when I have lost it

love. for people, cats, things, moments & music. and anyone or anything that needs love

ehmjey

i lost hope for quite a while there, still not sure if i got it back, but this is a good reminder

also in light of recent abortion news from the U.S. the world freedom to chose part is especially relevant

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ehmjey

do you ever think about how scary wanting something is? it’s so vulnerable to let yourself want things, to admit you want things, to admit you wanted something you didn’t get. i don’t know how people do that…wanting things has never worked out for me. as soon as it gets more serious, gets tangible it just is too much. it’s so much pressure. to want something and face the possibility of not getting it. i don’t know if i could deal with that. i think i want too much. i think if i want one thing i want it so much it’s too much pressure for me. i get disappointed too fast, i stress too much. i don’t want to want things anymore. but i want so much.

ehmjey

i still haven’t figured out how to want this without always leaving room for „well it wasn’t that important“

magdaliny-deactivated20191030

“In college I had a physics professor who wrote the date and time in red marker on a sheet of white paper and then lit the paper on fire and placed it on a metallic mesh basket on the lab table where it burned to ashes. He asked us whether or not the information on the paper was destroyed and not recoverable, and of course we were wrong, because physics tells us that information is never lost, not even in a black hole, and that what is seemingly destroyed is, in fact, retrievable. In that burning paper the markings of ink on the page are preserved in the way the flame flickers and the smoke curls. Wildly distorted to the point of chaos, the information is nonetheless not dead. Nothing, really, dies. Nothing dies. Nothing dies.”

— Nicholas Rombes, The Absolution of Roberto Acestes Laing (via bobschofield)

donttouchmyasymptote

You want a physicist to speak at your funeral. You want the physicist to talk to your grieving family about the conservation of energy, so they will understand that your energy has not died. You want the physicist to remind your sobbing mother about the first law of thermodynamics; that no energy gets created in the universe, and none is destroyed. You want your mother to know that all your energy, every vibration, every Btu of heat, every wave of every particle that was her beloved child remains with her in this world. You want the physicist to tell your weeping father that amid energies of the cosmos, you gave as good as you got.

And at one point you’d hope that the physicist would step down from the pulpit and walk to your brokenhearted spouse there in the pew and tell him that all the photons that ever bounced off your face, all the particles whose paths were interrupted by your smile, by the touch of your hair, hundreds of trillions of particles, have raced off like children, their ways forever changed by you. And as your widow rocks in the arms of a loving family, may the physicist let her know that all the photons that bounced from you were gathered in the particle detectors that are her eyes, that those photons created within her constellations of electromagnetically charged neurons whose energy will go on forever.

And the physicist will remind the congregation of how much of all our energy is given off as heat. There may be a few fanning themselves with their programs as he says it. And he will tell them that the warmth that flowed through you in life is still here, still part of all that we are, even as we who mourn continue the heat of our own lives.

And you’ll want the physicist to explain to those who loved you that they need not have faith; indeed, they should not have faith. Let them know that they can measure, that scientists have measured precisely the conservation of energy and found it accurate, verifiable and consistent across space and time. You can hope your family will examine the evidence and satisfy themselves that the science is sound and that they’ll be comforted to know your energy’s still around. According to the law of the conservation of energy, not a bit of you is gone; you’re just less orderly. Amen.

(Aaron Freeman, “Planning Ahead Can Make A Difference In The End”)

#conservation of energy is my way of believing in souls #we don’t come from nothing and disappear into nothing #our energy was always there and always will be

paper-fairy

“Summer was here again. Summer, summer, summer. I loved and hated summers. Summers had a logic all on their own and they always brought something out in me. Summer was supposed to be about freedom and youth and no school and possibilities and adventure and exploration. Summer was a book of hope. That’s why I loved and hated summers. Because they made me want to believe.”

— Benjamin Alire Sáenz, Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe

the last thing in my apartment are my packed bags

the phoneline is disconnected

every social media profile disabled

the only thing between me and death

between me and life

is a taxi

a train

an airplane

#planning to run away is my favourite coping mechanism

sometimes being remembered is all you can hope for

I never saw a future for us. Well, that isn’t completely accurate. I never saw me in your future.

Maybe not from the very beginning. In the beginning I still believed. But that soon turned into a desperate hope and then into acceptance. Acceptance that it was temporary, that I couldn’t hold on forever.

We talked so much about what the future could hold, about our dreams and how we would go after anything we wanted, how we were going to make it. And I am sorry I lied to you. I’m sorry I made it seem like that would be a possible for us. But know that I never once doubted that you could achieve everything you dreamed of and more. I never lied about that.

#soulmates to strangers #friends to strangers

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The music stops and the room gets quiet. There are no other noises except for our breathing, everyone else being at home, asleep, at this time of the night.

“You know, I couldn’t do this without you.”

Your words catch me off guard. Normally I would brush things like that off with an over-the top Of course. But right now the atmosphere seems different.

“Oh, don’t say that. We both know that’s not true. You're talented and hardworking enough for both of us.”

“No, I’m serious.”

“Well, I-“

When I turn to you to say something inconsequential, change the topic, I see that your attention is already on me and it feels like you see more than I want you to.

“I really mean it. I don’t think I ever would have come this far if it wasn’t for you.” You sit up and hold out your pinky. “Promise me, that we’ll succeed together”

“A pinky swear, really? Aren’t we a bit old for that?”

“No, come on. Promise!”

“Okay, okay…” I sigh and link my pinky with yours. When I look up any hint that you knew more than you let up is gone. But the excitement in your eyes is so much worse, because I knew the moment I made that promise, that I would break it.

#drabble #unfinished #friends to strangers #wip #idolverse #or #band fic

i just discovered that the only way i get inspired enough to write actual stories is when i am making myself cry in the process

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