fastest-grl-alive-blog

[fastest-grl-alive-blog]

I like a girl.... help

[fastest-grl-alive-blog]

Can someone parallel this with the Savitar storyline

[fastest-grl-alive-blog]

“There’s no support group for what we’re experiencing.”

[fastest-grl-alive-blog]

[fastest-grl-alive-blog]

Iconic Westallen Moments: Iris’s kiss igniting Barry’s speed

[fastest-grl-alive-blog]

#the signature smiley superhero nod™ #I’m so proud of my girls

[fastest-grl-alive-blog]

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: The Flash (TV 2014) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Barry Allen/Iris West Additional Tags: Angst, Love, post breakup, LOL i am bad Summary:

The baby, unexpected, but the bringer of light her life deserved. Dawn, like Barry, was nothing until she was everything. Iris West hadn’t any idea how much she would long for Barry Allen, until he miraculously aligned himself as the center of her universe. With his calamitous exit, Dawn, reflecting the aura of her father gladly took his place.

[fastest-grl-alive-blog]

My Day

So, I woke up at the ass crack of dawn with the intention of having a great and eventful day. The gym treated me well as my triceps and biceps are already slightly sore. I believe I finished a little after eight and trotted along to the tutoring center (one of my jobs). Had an appointment at nine am with a student who unfortunately had her foundational Spanish with my current literature professor. Pobrecita! I spent the morning tutoring a couple more individuals, but I had a nagging feeling situated in my abdomen.

My bitch of an ex-roommate works as the receptionist on days when I do not and luckily (I say with great sarcasm), she was there today. From what I can tell, she is every bit as immature as she was three years ago. I mean, whether she wants to speak to me or not is her choice, but her lack of professionalism is a joke. My student showed up and she did not even attempt to let me know, instead half-assedly gesturing a likely unclean hand in my direction to indicate where I was to the student. Fuck off, dude.

You are responsible for your actions just as much as I am for my own. Hanging on to things that happened years ago is embarrassing, especially if what you are grasping onto is bitterness. Holding onto that anger must get tiring. It bothers me that your words are still in my memory and how you made me feel still tugs at my subconscious. It bothers me to think that you are cursing me in your mind, commenting on my idiocy, and worse, denying my change. Part of me wants you to know that I am different now, grown, but still underdeveloped in other areas. Why do I want that? It is so fucking dumb because you do not matter anymore and neither do I. What hurt me the most was how you made me feel unlovable and unlikable.

I read the preface to a book which discusses how to attract others and influence them and the text offered up this wisdom,”Always self-criticize before criticizing someone else.” Listen, no one likes to hear why they are wrong. Or, why they are going to be unsuccessful, without friends, or without what we perceive as a full life. I hated the feeling of your criticism. It felt like lava ebbing and flowing as if it were a sea, scalding my bare feet. It was excruciatingly painful in terms of the vandalism of my being. I wonder now why I allowed you to subjugate me constantly. Why did I never rebuke? I felt small compared to you and I believe it is because you used me as a means to boost your confidence.

Sometimes we reconcile in my dreams. The manifestations of the subliminal mind make very little sense at times, but this especially is ludicrous. I want so badly for people to like me and you did, for nine months, at least. Maybe your appearances are attributed to fulfilling that perceived need of validation. I liked having your acceptance-- well, what I thought I had of it. You continue to stagger my heart in fear of what is completely innocent and poorly cultivated. It is you. I hope you let go of what hinders you as much as I want that for myself. You deserve that, L. It means nothing to you, but I never expected that. I forgive you, but I am not sorry.

Sav

[fastest-grl-alive-blog]

La Sabiduría

¿Para qué estamos aquí? Esta existencia nos sirve una oportunidad para leer, absorberlo y luego, tener la aplicación en la vida cotidiana. ¿Es verdad? Pues, me pregunto porque tengo un agujero en el centro del pecho. Es como no me siento nada, pero al mismo tiempo, me siento todo. Son oleadas de los sentimientos de extranjeros y las energías manipuladas por nuestros almas. Es difícil de entender el proceso de regular las consecuencias de sentir. ¿Por qué me siento así? Tal vez me sienta la fuerza de las emociones y cómo estoy abrumada por las cuales. Todos vamos a morir y no es cuestión de lo que pasa cuando venga la muerte. Lo que importa más es el pasado lo cual has creado. A veces me pregunto sobre el propósito de la vida, pero me salvé cuando me dio cuenta de la falta. La prisión de la vida, personas atascadas por las memorias del pasado y todo lo que han hecho. Deberías tener la fe en que has hecho con la esperanzas que todas las cosas fueron buenas. Tiene que haber una razón para completar ritos de paso como tener la primera menstruación, la emergencia de las formas representadas por la madurez, entonces tienes que tener una relación romántica que invita la boda inminente. Y después, un bebé. Son de las expectativas sociales una persona debería cumplir. Esto es reflexión del estado mental ahora debido a la falta de competencia de mi profesor de la literatura. YA ME ABURRO! Alguien sálvame!

[fastest-grl-alive-blog]

shout out to my fellow sexy bitches with adhd who use way more words than they really need to literally any time they write or type anything because their point has to come across 100% like they imagined it

[fastest-grl-alive-blog]

you wear an ancestor's face. you look like a woman you'll never meet. in that mirror, there's thousands of you. and in the bath, when you look down, she looks back, shaking and deforming in the ripples as she lies beneath the surface.

[fastest-grl-alive-blog]

“Look at what you are. Look at it. Look at your anger; why are you angry? Look at your jealousy; why are you jealous? Look at your envy; why are you envious? Look at your insecurities and understand why. Look at your judgments; why do you judge? Look at your unmercy; why aren’t you merciful? And look at your laughter; where is it?”

— RAMTHA: A Beginner’s Guide to Creating Reality

[fastest-grl-alive-blog]

[fastest-grl-alive-blog]

Intr-Hoe

Hello, earthlings.

I thought I would preface my madness with a bit of an introduction. That being said, my name is Savannah, like the dreaded city in coastal Georgia. I usually go by Sav, simply because I am tired of the mockery. That poor city.

Undergraduate Student

I study as a double-major with Social Work and Spanish :-)

I finish undergrad in May of 2020 and the Monday after graduation (fuck my life) I will embark upon the ominous graduate school.

While I study a related language and social advocacy, I have acquired an interest in anthropological study. I am interested most in Latin American studies specifically related to the construction of gender, sexuality, and machismo in Latin America.

Endgame? In the Stark daylight, I would say that it is something completely lavish, but if I think about it a bit (Ga)mora, I just preoccupy my future with making lives better.

Writer?

I wish I could say I got my start in an exaggeratedly cool manner, but I can first recall writing being presented to me as a necessary task. In school? I wish. Each year, my mother had me participate in a winter writing contest and while you likely thought I wrote the essay, I did not. I have the distinct memory of my mother plying me with snacks as motivation to rewrite the story she had already jotted down. I remember being confused because her ‘r’ always looked like a ‘v’ instead.

My writing experience flourished following the discovery of a show I would later grow to love and look to in very dark times: Glee. Keep in mind, I was going through some hormonal changes at the same time I came upon a writing outlet for those who had found themselves a fandom. Sure, I didn’t immediately immerse myself in writing. I took my time, reading fanfic after fanfic, especially the bad ones (I didn’t think at the time they were bad). I finally consummated my love of Finchel in a one-shot that depicted their Earth Day activities. GAG ME.

Throughout high school, I grew further as a writer, but I did not improve dramatically until my senior year when I took my final English classes (college level) with one of my favorite teachers. I wrote my first real research paper. That shit felt great.

Now-ish? The past few years in college, I have drafted multiple research and exploratory papers, in both Spanish and English. I am confident in my wordsmith-ing abilities and find myself wanting to write more and more, with the hidden hopes that I’ll one day be a published author.

That Bitch With Facts

I just had a protein shake and for the duration of drinking it, I was tasting blood. As of right now, I am not really scared, but now my intestines are bopping to SICKO MODE.

The Flash is the love of my life. I just really love the fact that Barry Allen comes from tragedy and grows impossibly stronger, not because he acquires his powers, but because he learns to believe in himself and (if it’s real) his destiny. He was chosen and the world just happened to be so lucky to have someone like him.

I am going through a Melanie Martinez phase right now, but I suppose it makes sense what with my penetrating self-hatred and her relatable lyrics. On the contrary, I have also found myself in a LIZZO phase, too. A balance between confidence and discouragement? YEET.

I love showtunes. I saw Hamilton in March and it was a culmination of all I’ve ever wanted, simply because I had been listening to the soundtrack for years.

A great segue, I love to sing. I used to do children’s theatre and continued in high school, but unfortunately had to choose a “real” profession when I began college. Catch me singing my loudest in my apartment, I love the acoustics in the kitchen.

 I lost my train of thought, which is not uncommon, but I am genuinely excited to regurgitate my bottle emotions onto your local dashboard. Thank you :)

GOALS

Stop being a self-hating slut. It’s tiring.

Become a better singer.

Enroll in a hip-hop class.

Get to 10K in my bank account.

Let go of shit that still hurts me.

Pay my couch off.

Fit into my size 12 shorts.

Write a prologue.

Sing Defying Gravity without throwing my voice out.

Be better.  

GOODBYE

Dear friends,

Thank you for reading (or not reading) my introductory post. I am excited to fulfill some self-care by putting my thoughts and ideas here. Remember that the lightning didn’t just strike you, it chose you. You and I can try our best at being catalysts in our own lives. LOVE YOURSELF BITCHES!!!

Savannah xx