#I am so tired i dont know whats happening

[angelliicc]

promise

“i’m your shining light

even in the darkness.”

masterlist

a/n HI BESTIESSS. so i got back into editing and it ate down literally. anyways there was no hw or practice so enjoy this thats been hiding in my drafts

warnings not proofread

| as practice ended, and your teammates huddled in a circle, you ran to the bathroom as it finished. tears started flowing down your face. you hated off days. you always compared yourself to other players, saying “why can’t i be like them? am i not good enough? what do i need to do to be better?” it was an endless cycle, especially as an athlete that started your sport late. that meant you had to work 100 times harder than everyone else.

you sobbed and sobbed in the bathroom, the same questions racing through your mind. “why am i even trying? i should just give up.” you texted ellie, telling her about practice and how you played.

r: “i hate this im so tired and exhausted.”

e: “baby whats wrong? talk to me”

r: “i had an off day and i can’t stop crying.”

e: “wait for me at the gym, ill be there in 10 minutes.”

those 10 minutes felt like an eternity. you kept sobbing and sobbing, letting your emotions pour out. if your emotions weren’t shown on the court, you’d bottle them up and explode later. you looked in the mirror, then down into the sink as you saw the tears exit your eyes. you tried to pull yourself together, making sure no one would walk through the door, but you emotionally couldn’t. next think you know, you hear the door open and freeze.

it was ellie. you ran into her arms, sobbing. “shhh.. its okay. its okay.” she said softly into your ear, then resting her chin on your head. “you wanna stay here or go to my car?” she asked you.

“lets go to the car.” you said. “i don’t want anyone to see me upset.”

“alright.” she grabbed a paper towel then patted it on your face, drying your cheeks. “go get your bag and your shoes, tell me what happened in the car, kay?” you nodded in agreement.

you grabbed your gym bag and basketball shoes while ellie walked next to you the whole time. you put your stuff in the back, then opened the door to the passengers seat. you sat down and close the door. you looked into ellies eyes, looking like you want to sob again.

“whats wrong my love?” she asked.

“i played terrible today. i hate off days. im tired of comparing myself. i dont think ill ever play at the college level. i should just give up. im not good enough and i never will be. defense was sloppy, handles were loose, didn’t make any shots or catch any rebounds.” you said. you started to tear up.

“you need to stop thinking this way. you need to realized that you are good enough. you just don’t realize your own worth because of the people you’re surrounded by. you can do it baby. you worked so hard to be here today.” she told you, cupping your face. “everything will work out, don’t cry. yea today may have been off for you? so what? just reset for next practice.” ellie wiped a tear from your cheek.

“but im just not confident anymore.” you said in a shaky voice, tears all over your face.

“let me ask you this, do you still find love for basketball?” she asked.

“well, yes.” you replied, sniffing.

“then don’t give up. if the love is still there, its gonna be okay. but when it runs out, it’s time to move on, okay?” she said, looking at you.

“i love you, so much. and you are so good at basketball. i know you’ll make it far.” she told you as she kissed your face. “lets get you home baby.”

“even when only my light is left

i promise you, i promise you

always together, be your light.”

[mistykaru]

i got stuff from the csp asset store and i wanted to play with it so this is a mess but i did have fun and i kinda dig the vibes

[cloudcountry]

i think i may have created way to much pressure on myself when i tell people to send stuff that theyve tagged me in that i've missed. like yes i'd love to be able to read everything you guys send me but im gone most of the day now and its just not possible anymore. it kinda makes me sad because ive probably missed out on so much because of the sheer amount of things in my mentions.

[baeshijima]

"let's go, rin."

what if this is where i met my end? what then?

[9x07]

how many times do we need to learn as people that irony and hyperbole can be harmful because 'jokes' aren't easily distinguished from genuine thoughts and feelings until we stop rewarding people for speaking or posting about violence

like even if you're joking/don't actually believe that/think whoever you are insulting is bad/immoral/fictional therefore deserves it - ad hominem attacks always do more harm to the people who share those characteristic then the individual you intend to cause harm to or discredit

[spineless-lobster]

I hate you writers block I hate you motivation but no inspiration I hate you inspiration but no motivation I hate you staring at a half finished doc every night I hate you trying to summon the right scene I hate you knowing what I want to write but unable to write it I hate you writers block I hate you I hate you I hate you

[genekies]

tag vent

[talkorsomething]

I have Got to get more transgender

[hopefulqueer]

Solitude, Solifugids, and the Ten Percent Chance

(Author's note: this is about despair and radical hope and you are not alone, there's bugs. Please note that this story contains content involving heavily implied suicidal intentions and serious illness. Also, more than heavily implied bugs.)

A cloud of dust billowed up behind my car, tinging the blue desert sky with orange. It left a trail off into the distance, back towards civilization, getting fainter and more spread out and less easily detectable the further back I looked. I once heard a guest lecturer who studied theoretical physics say that no information in the universe could ever be truly destroyed. A drop of ink mixed into a pool of water might seem uniform and untraceable, but the movement of each molecule held the proof of what came before it. In that way, the motion of every particle that had ever existed could, in theory, be traced all the way back to the beginning of time. My dust cloud would eventually disappear to the naked eye, but once those particles had been disturbed, there was no going back.

My destination appeared as a tiny black dot on the flat horizon. There were very few man-made structures in this barren landscape in Eastern Oregon. This tiny church, lovingly built by pioneers on the Oregon Trail who thought it was their God-given right to take and take and take and leave their fingerprints on every corner of the planet, was the exception. This place had already been desecrated. I wouldn’t be staining anywhere new.

I pulled off the highway and onto the dead, scrubby grass and sand and rocks that surrounded the little stone building for miles in every direction. The ground crunched and groaned under my wheels. When I turned the key to kill the engine, something deep and powerful struck my ears.

Silence.

I got out of the car. The door slamming behind me was like a gunshot into the still air. A real gunshot might be even louder. I’d find out soon enough.

Apart from the occasional creaks as the heat in my car dissipated and it settled, my breathing was the only human sound for dozens of miles. I knew that there was no such thing as real silence in a city, but experiencing it like this for the first time still came as a shock. It was like putting on the best pair of noise-canceling headphones ever invented and then some. People were throwing away so much money to develop better and better technology. All that was ever going to do was add more noise to the world. Pointless. Arrogant.

Speaking of arrogance, an American flag hung limp, dusty, and tattered on a metal pole next to the church. That wasn’t part of what the original settlers had left behind. Somebody else had come along over a hundred years later and decided it was a good idea to put a flag there like a mark of pride, like an animal peeing on the scratches it left in a tree, like the church wasn’t bad enough. I opened my mouth and I screamed.

“There’s no one to hear you scream” is always that point in a horror movie where the character knows that they’re well and truly fucked. My piercing, wordless scream rose up and was lost into the hot, dry air. If a man screams in the desert and nobody’s around, is he really dying?

It felt like something was reaching down into me and tearing that cry out. Its claws ripped through my stomach and slit my throat, and the scream just kept pouring out of me like blood and smoke and water.

I was on all fours without remembering how I got there by the time I ran out of breath. My palms were stinging from pieces of gravel that had embedded themselves into my skin. I pulled dust and heat and oxygen into my lungs and stared down at my hands with dry eyes and a little bit of saliva on my lips. My body heaved into the returning silence. How long would it take someone to find me? A few hours? A day or so? A week? This dirt road was so infrequently traveled that scrappy little leafy plants were growing up around the wheel ruts. I wondered if I should walk further out into the desert and make life more difficult for somebody. I could make my impact just a little bigger, a little deeper. It felt unrealistic to me at that moment that more people didn't go missing. It was unbearably tempting, and there was just so much space out there to become lost in. This was more space than I had ever seen in my life. Why had it taken this to get me out further than a couple of hours from where I had been born? I'd never thought of myself as a coward before, or a shut-in, or even particularly sheltered. Now I was looking back at my life with this horrible fresh perspective and realizing how pathetic I had always been.

A gust of wind blew more dust into my face and I blinked hard to keep it out of my eyes. The sudden sound of a rhythmic dull tapping sent a burst of fear ricocheting through my body. It sounded so much like quick footsteps that I sprang to my feet and whipped around to look back over my shoulder, certain that I would see another person there. A reasonable thought would have been that it was a hiker, maybe, or a hitchhiker. But I had a strange expectation that they would be wearing the clothes of an Oregon Trail settler, or a pre-colonial Native American. I didn't believe in ghosts and I never had. Even so, when I heard that sound, I knew with every fiber of my being that there was a ghost behind me.

There wasn't any ghost. The ragged, faded American flag had caught the wind and was up and blowing, flapping and fluttering against itself. Some metal on its tether hit the flagpole and chimed weakly like a bell. 

I put a hand to my chest, actually shaking with adrenaline. Trying to get rid of some of that nervous energy, I kicked a rock that was a little too big to kick. It sent a shooting pain up through one of my middle toes and the rock only skidded along for a yard or two.

As I began to curse and hop on one foot, something on the ground caught my eye. In the dark leftover shadow where the rock had been, something was moving. A spider, or something like a spider, scuttled a few inches and froze in the sudden sunlight. I had disturbed its hiding spot.

I felt the need to get a closer look. I only knew a little about spiders and bugs. They had never captured my interest like the bigger animals had when I was a kid. I had always been enchanted by whales and dolphins and sharks and giant squid. This little thing, though, two inches long and tan and leggy with oversized mouthparts, was just as strange and alien as any deep-sea fish I'd seen in a documentary. I kneeled down and let my shadow fall over it. It tensed, and I leaned down closer.

Its body was a bit dull and its head shone a brighter orange. The shape of its abdomen was unlike any spider I had ever seen, bulbous and elongated at the same time. It had eight legs, like a spider, plus those long feeler-type ones in the front. As far as I could tell, it only had two little black eyes on top of its almost teardrop shaped face. 

I couldn't move. I was entranced with this odd thing. My eyes traced the gradient of colors down its long legs. I noted the hairs bristling out of it and the creases separating the segments on its back. It was beautiful. Beautiful.

As if finally recovering from the shock of having its home kicked away from above it, it darted off into a nearby bush almost faster than I could track it. With the spell broken, I sat back on my heels and sighed.

How long did a little creature like that live? A year or two? And how many of the babies of this species would live to whatever passed for a ripe old age? How many would live a full life, a full year? Less than ten percent, I was almost certain. 

Less than a ten percent chance to live out the year. It had resonated in my chest as such a hopeless figure when I drove out here. But that strange arachnid was so alive. It didn't know its odds and so it kept living, and because it kept living, it was still alive. It all seemed so simple now. That information, like all information in the universe, would never be undone.

[echo-s-land]

It's insane how most of the time I don't get how ppl interact and I also Don't Fucking Care

[batemanofficial]

hello upper middle class northern usamerican tumblr user. i want to play a game. you will notice that you are in a super america convenience store in rural kentucky - you have three minutes to purchase a snack and drink of your choice and make normal small talk with the cashier. however, if you use the word "cryptid" or generally make reference to appalachia and its inhabitants as "wild", uncivilized, or lacking restraint around alcoholic beverages during your time here, i will personally tie you to the chassis of a four wheeler and tip it into the river. live or die. make your choice

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[autisticlee]

i'm so tired. year after year i've posted on facebook/Instagram where I have irl people, begging for someone to come hang out and do fun summer activities i've wanted to do since I was a kid but never got to do. year after year i'm ignored and don't get to do anything with anyone. this summer i've been trying they bumble friends app. but it's the same there. I have to try to initiate things and don't get much response and don't know how to plan anything. if I do plan, i'm afraid i'll waste the little time and energy I have on nothing. I doubt strangers will agree to meet up when I can't even figure out how to get to know them properly....

"ask people people directly instead of making a broad post" i've been told. i've tried that too, over and over. it always ends in rejection and excuses. i'll ask, they'll say they can't because they're busy. so I "put the ball in their court" as they say, and ask them if we can plan another time. more excuses or getting ignored. tell them to let me know as soon as they know. but if I don't ask them again, they will never speak to me again. they never let me know. they forget i exist, or simply avoid me on purpose. they do things with all their real friends instead, because they can always make time for them, even after I was told they're busy this weekend with work, I find out they went out with friends all weekend and didn't actually have work or plans at all before that. if I ask too many times, they eventually ghost me and don't even give excuses anymore. they don't even have the kindness to tell me they don't want to see me so I can stop wasting my precious time and energy on them.

"people like to be asked directly because it means you want to meet them specifically and they feel special, so theyre more likely to accept" or whatever, I don't remember the exact words I was told, it was something like that. but I can get that. that's why I will try a few times before giving up. that's why I wait endlessly year after year for someone to reach out to me first for once to do things or even just chat. it's always expected that I always reach out first, ask first, plan everything. i'm not good at that. is that why I always fail at it? the rejection affects me more than for others. trying to plan things is exhausting and overwhelming. especially when I plan a while thing and get canceled on or rejected, time after time. yet I still try and keep waiting, wasting my time and feeling more alone.

why do I have to always be the one to reach out? why can't I expect someone to one day respond to my broad posts? why do I have to ask directly every time and do the socially draining song and dance just to be met with failure? they're so quick to push me away. I don't think asking directly does anything at all to benefit me or them. I don't think they actually care or need or want my attention, because they all have their people. me asking directly doesn't make them feel special at all.

"it's a two-way street/you don't have to do everything/find people who will put in effort too" i'm told these things. it sounds good in theory. but I can't control what other people do or think or feel, so it isn't helpful. go tell that to the difficult people I know and keep meeting. tell them how to communicate properly, because i'm sure if I give them a lecture on proper communication and how to treat me better, they will block me immediately. people have a bad habit of refusing to listen to me no matter how hard I try to communicate with them.

"as people directly" feels more like a lie I was told. a thing told to me to say i must not be trying hard enough and that's why I fail. a lie to remind me that i'm socially unacceptable and do everything wrong. they don't need me to ask directly. they aren't going to accept anyway. but what about me? what if i'm the one who wants to feel special that I was chosen by someone directly over others, that they thought if me, wanted to give their precious time to me? instead of being their last choice, hoping they accept because they have no one else, because all their real friends and favorite people are busy but they need socializing. the reality is, i'm usually not even a choice at all. I've seen their posts where they're bored or want to do a thing but don't ask me like I asked them to. they get responses from their real friends and set plans and don't have space left for me. I want to feel the thing i'm told other people are supposed to feel when I ask directly. they don't seem to feel that at all because it's me and i'm not people they like. I can't ask too much or ask to join in. desperate people are never wanted. maybe I still look too desperate once or twice a year.

it sure would be nice to be liked. to be on someone's mind when they want to invite people. to get invitations to things, to be included in plans, to get people to accept my invites. to have someone to actually want you around and ask you suddenly without warning, making the plans, without you having to do anything but show up and join them. instead of being forced to spend my life alone, I want to feel what it's like to actually be wanted....

[steampoweredskeleton]

Ignore

[devotedlystrangewizard]

totk really is one of those games that make me go "ok thanks for the characters, setting, and general plot, but ill take it from here <3" because the entire historical timeline had so much potential for interesting and nuanced story telling but they just went with the old zelda story formula and YES thats how theyve always done it but botw was such a reset in terms of gameplay that they couldve overhauled how they handle story in totk. but they didnt

[glados-kisser]

I miss my friends who aren't anymore. People who I connected with so briefly and strongly.