#Leo Amare

[creatively-defective]

Art Fight time!! Trying to actually do things before the last minute this year to maybe have everything done… 😅 I’m super excited for it this year!!

[sublecturas]

"El arte de amar", de Erich Fromm en la #LíneaB

[reagi-df]

For @tmntaucompetition I was very productive today... not for my comic though XD

Looking up he eyes everyone around him. He’s giddy to know that there is more than one universes out there, he wants to talk to other Donatello’s and pick their brains for knowledge.

Excitement runs through him when he eyes the Donatello’s scattered about, they all look so different from one another it's breathtaking. 

His eye catches something and he turns to look. Over in the far side is what looks like a Donatello, dressed in a leotard and tutu laced with feathers. He look elegant and graceful,  -I knew I could rock wearing tights,- he nobs in approval, he seemingly glide across the floor, the feathers of his outfit look soft to the touch while small feathered wings hover at his exposed back; he twists and turn looking for something as a frown is etched into their face, hand tight around a wooden bo staff. Donnie's feet carry him over and the closer he gets the more different but slightly similar this turtle looks. 

This Donnie has markings that he doesn't but are roughly the same height, maybe taller due to him standing on his tip toes and from the looks of it around the same age. But before he could get any closer, there was a commotion behind him and he casts a glance over his shoulder, only to see more people having joined in the fight.

“Sigh, they're so unsophisticated” he groans. And when he turns back the Donnie-swan had disappeared. Huffing a breath Donnie looks around only to look in the other direction as he walks, pointedly looking away from a Leo making his way into the staff room.

He saw nothing. Not his Leo, not his problem. 

“Oh sweet Galileo '' he gets stars in his eyes when sees a flat screen tv that sits on a pole with wheels. They’re  surrounded by a group of other counterparts that are way taller than Donnie, and he stops another version of himself.  When the screen turns around his own face is splashed across it. “That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen” he drools, so caught up in his amaration that he just nearly misses the small figure moving towards them.

Realisation dawns on his face a second later. “Oh no” with that Donnie rushes off, cursing Leon for losing tot CLeo. 

Screams filled the room when CLeo latches onto the top of the screen. And Donnie can’t help but be impressed by the jump CLeo made.

Swanatello @tangledinink Omega @kathaynesart I feel bad for tagging I hope I didnt make omega ooc I really enjoyed doing theses, haven't drawn on paper for a while and its was nice to go back to it again

Cleo has a lot of a few issues with Donnie's at the moment, no one is safe from this terror

Cleo becoming a tot came before this

[unactive-shroom]

The last thing Leo Valdez expected was to see Y/n L/n in bunker nine.

Crouched beside a large metal frame, her oil stained hands made rapid movements as the machine shuddered and emitted a grey fog across the bunker. Although Leo guessed the contraption was about to combust, he couldn’t help but fix his gaze on the girl in front of him.

it had been almost a year since he had seen her last, her previously long, dyed hair was now tied back out of her face, the dye settled at the ends of her hair like dripping paint. Her natural black hair created the perfect silhouette for her face, emphasising her sea-green eyes and her ethereal seeming features. She seemed tired, but happier, as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

“Y/n?” Leo stammered. “When did you get here?”

The girl looked up and smiled a cheeky grin back in response, before giving the machine one final thump with a mallet before it spurred to life, clanking and clunking, gradually clearing the grey smog from the room.

She stood up, wiping her slender hands on what appeared to be a pair of school trousers. It seemed as if she had just left school, which was impossible. Her school was miles and miles away, surely she wouldve had time to change. Besides, School finished up almost a month ago in America.

Before Leo could decide whether an “I missed you so so much ” or a “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back early??” was a better thing to say, he was engulfed in her arms, her familiar ocean and oil smell frying his brain for a split second.

“Man, I’ve missed you, Leo. Sorry for rooting around in your bunker without asking you, I thought you’d already be in here and then I got a bit distracted I guess”

She explained how she arrived early after some empousai attacked her boarding school in Birmingham, causing the year to finish early. As for why she was in her uniform still, Apollo still owed her a favour from when he was turned mortal, so she asked him to bring her to camp half blood.

As they left bunker nine and headed to dinner hand in hand, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a thick square wrapped gift.

“didnt think I forgot your birthday, did you?” As she handed him the present he looked at her sceptically. “Did you for real get me a book for my birthday? I mean damn, I love you and all, but a book? seriously?”

Regardless, he carefully unwrapped the vibrant paper around the gift, revealing a red leather book with the title bearing “Esperanza Valdez”. Speechless, Leo shot you a careful glance before opening the book. Inside was a handwritten note.

“Cariño, you told me once that you would do anything to have a picture of your mother, beside the newspaper clippings from that night. You told me it was pointless though, because it was impossible. That your family would never even talk to you again, let alone give you anything of your mother. You have given me what I thought was impossible. Love, acceptance. A place to go. I think it’s time for me to return the favour. Mi vida, mi alma, mi sol. Te amare por siempre. Feliz cumpleaños, mi amor.” ^

Leo flicked through the pages in disbelief. The inside of the book was filled with scrapbooked pictures of his mother in her youth, all the way to pictures of her mother holding him with his grandparents, his mother playing legos with him, his mother and him going about their life, content. Before the accident. When he got to the last page he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He collapsed into her arms, sobbing a mixture of grief and gratitude, all while she stroked his hair and waited for him to calm down.

When he had done so, she asked if he wanted her to read him the final page, a crinkled handwritten note carefully glued into the final page

“Necesito ir a comprar algunas cosas a las tiendas, hijo. Si te despiertas antes de que regrese, no tengas miedo. Volveré tan pronto como pueda. llamar a nuestro vecino si algo sucede. ¡Te amo! -Mami”. ^^

It was heartbreaking how something so mundane can cause such Greif - A note from Leo’s mom for his child self not to worry as she went shopping in the early morning. Leo had never had anything like it, a note written by his mother, her *handwriting*, it felt so surreal. He remembered reading the note as a child, waiting patiently by the door for his mothers return. But now there was no door to wait by, no mother to walk through it. He looked up at y/n with tear filled eyes.

“How did you even get these? I know Aunt Rosa didn’t give them to you, no way.”

And so she explained how she sought out Clios, the Greek patron of history, and did many complicated and time consuming, and some straight up ridiculous quests in exchange for old photos of his mother. The handwritten note had been a “tip” for doing such a good job on the quests.

Leo was completely shocked. How - *why* would someone do all this for *him*? He thought to himself how he didn’t deserve such a wonderful partner such as y/n, such a kind and thoughtful human was surely wasting their time being with *him*.

Despite his thoughts & tears, the two of them made it to dinner, where Leo showed piper and Jason the pictures of his mom and him. It was too personal, too raw to share with anyone else yet. And after Leo’s 20th “thank you so so much I love you the most anyone has ever loved ever” they finally blew out the candles on the cake, and when anybody asked, Leo was sure to tell them that it was the best birthday he ever had.

a/n : I can never nicely finish up a one shot can I. Reader is implied daughter of Poseidon. Anyways, translation for the Spanish :

^ “my life, my soul, my sun. I love you forever. Happy birthday my love”

^^ “I need to go buy some things at the shops, son. If you wake up before I come back, don't be afraid. I'll be back as soon as I can. call our neighbor if something happens. I love you! - Mami”

Sorry if my Spanish is bad bro I suck at sm and won’t lie I used a lot of google translate for the second piece. Okay hope you enjoyed 🫶 happy birthday Leo

[no-wings-no-angel]

Opiniões e Fatos e Outras Coisas aleatoriamente expressadas pelo meu pai, ex-dj de festa dos anos 80:

Antes de um álbum lançar, a rádio recebia o single e trabalhava a música. Ter algum amigo na rádio era a principal forma de um dj conseguir músicas de álbuns que ainda não saíram.

Existem 2 tipos de música, as rápidas dançantes e as lentas.

Toda vez que ele fala de uma música gringa, ele diz o título de uma forma super exagerada e ênfase estranha.

Apesar de ter sido dj, ele tem zero noção de nomenclatura de gênero musicais. Ele já perguntou se eu ouvia Camisa de Vênus, eu disse que não, mas ouvida Plebe Rude, levando ele a responder “Camisa de Vênus, Plebe Rude, Banda Ira, tocavam tudo a mesma coisa” eu perguntei “O quê, punk?” E ele não soube responder.

Ele não sabe nada de nenhuma rixa de bandas. Ele não sabe nada das bandas, PONTO, nada que não seja as músicas. Ele não sabia que Capital Inicial e Legião Urbana já foram um dia Aborto Elétrico.

O Passo do Lui é um álbum de muito sucesso porque “quatro músicas tocaram, quatro de quê? Doze? Isso era muito.”

Por isso ele não sabe boa parte dos B sides, apesar de reconhecer bandas pelo estilo (e vocalista, obviamente).

Banda de sucesso era aquela que até a música lenta tocava.

The Cure e Depeche Mode era coisa de gente normal, não só góticos. Ele gosta de Strangelove e Just Like Heaven e sempre pede pra botar pra tocar.

E sim, ele dá uma ênfase estranha em cada palavra, jUst LAike RÉven e iShTrÊngiLóví que nem um radialista.

Ele acha que bandas como Beatles, Pink Floyd e Queen são “chatinhas” e “um porre”, especialmente dizendo que Beatles e Pink Floyd tem muita “música de louco“ (Diferindo de um tio meu, uns 8 anos mais novo, que acha o Pink Floyd a melhor coisa que aconteceu ao rock. Nunca vi eles discutindo sobre.)

Blue Monday do New Order era uma ótima música pra testar caixas de som.

Falando de Blue Monday, uma vez eu botei pra tocar no carro, ele disse “não, mas essa tá errada, isso é um remix”, sendo que era a primeira Blue Monday que aparecia no spotify. Descobri que aparentemente a que ele tocava era Blue Monday ‘88.

Se um artista era bissexual, gay, lésbica ou qualquer outra coisa, essa é a última coisa que ele vai lembrar a respeito, não importa quão óbvio seja, incluindo Freddie Mercury, David Bowie, Renato Russo e Cássia Eller.

O single de Você Não Soube me Amar da banda Blitz vinha com a música no lado A e o lado B intitulado “Nada”, que só tinha o vocalista cantando “Nada Nada Nada” repetidamente.

Mais de uma vez ele viu LPs tardiamente censurados, que tinham faixas inteiras riscadas na mão.

Ele se refere ao Kid Abelha pelo nome completo Kid Abelha & Os Abóboras Selvagens.

Ele acha a versão do Leo Jaime de Fórmula do Amor muito melhor que a do Kid Abelha (eu ouvi a do Kid Abelha primeiro, mas realmente a original é melhor)

Deu polícia no show do Titãs quando a música Polícia foi performada. Nem imagino o porquê.

Uma vez quando uma banda gringa veio pra nossa cidade, eles pediram pra casa de show ter “taças de cristal e bandejas de prata” no camarim, e a casa terceirizou. Até que descobriram que eles tinham ficado muito loucos, quebraram os copos e entortaram as bandejas, fazendo o dono da casa trancar geral no camarim até que eles pagassem. Isso configura como cárcere privado que acho, mas meu pai diz “que se foda, foi um desrespeito do caralho, no fim eles pagaram tudo e ainda cantaram direitinho”.

Se você parece estar trabalhando, você pode essencialmente entrar em qualquer festa.

[celestiaras]

Could you dod your take on whether niji members ar dom or sub? I think someone already did that but I wanted to hear your opinions

nijisanji en + some from other branches!!

pomu rainpuff - switch elira pendora - dominant finana ryugu - switch (sub-leaning)

rosemi lovelock - submissive selen tatsuki - switch (controversial but sub-leaning) petra gurin -submissive

enna alouette -switch (sub-leaning) nina kosaka - dominant reimu endou - switch millie parfait - switch (sub-leaning)

ike eveland - dominant mysta rias - submissive (i can't see him being dom-) vox akuma - switch (dom-leaning) luca kaneshiro - switch shu yamino - switch (dom-leaning)

alban knox - submissive yugo asuma - switch fulgur ovid - switch (dom-leaning) sonny brisko - dominant uki violeta - switch (sub-leaning)

scarle yonaguni - submissive aia amare - switch maria marionette - submissive aster arcadia - switch (sub-leaning) kyo kaneko - switch (sub-leaning) ren zotto - dominant

doppio dropscythe - switch (dom-leaning) kotoka torahime - switch ver vermillion - switch (sub-leaning) hex haywire - dominant meloco kyoran - submissive

yu q wilson - switch vantacrow bringer - switch (dom-leaning) vezalius bandage - dominant

clause clawmark - switch victoria brightshield - switch kunai nakasato - dominant

oliver evans - dominant leos vincent - switch (dom-leaning) lain paterson - switch (sub-leaning) sukoya kana - switch kaisei - switch mika melatika - submissive

[youngtimemachineheart]

Analizando y divagando sobre Foolish con su familia, porque… si:

.

Desde casi el inicio del server se nos dejó claro que al tótem-tiburón le costaba hallar palabras para describir o mostrar sus emociones. En sus propias palabras “I’m not good with Words” Sin embargo, a medida que pasaba el tiempo no solo fue aprendiendo de su familia sino que fue adoptando su forma de amar, por así decirlo.

Para entender mejor a su personaje creo que es necesario conocer algo de su historia ya que al final del qsmp se insinúa que su pasado en otros servers es parte de su historia (y por eso recuerda a Bad). En el pasado c!Foolish se isolaba a sí mismo mucho, construía cosas perdurables porque a diferencia de todo lo demás estas duraban más pero no tenían alma, no podían ser amadas solo admiradas y quizás por eso tampoco le importaba si desaparecían eventualmente. (Btw Disculpen si esta información no es del todo exacta) Él fue utilizado por las personas a su alrededor muchas veces, fue herido y por eso solía depositar una ligera confianza en ellos. Al final, lo único que le quedó fue quedarse con alguien que también lo lastimó solo porque no había nadie más alrededor.

Foolish era un solitario, no tuvo a alguien a quien poder decir esas palabras o al menos no sentir el deseo de querer hacerlo y no personas que se lo mostrarán y dijeran cada que podían; luego conoció a su familia.

Leo siempre se despedía como “Tú eres el bestie bestie”, que entendía Foolish cuando Leo le decía eso? Quizas comprendió que le decía que lo amaba por sobre todos? Y por eso era el mejor para ella. O cuando Foolish decia pequeño… él aprendió eso de su familia también? Leonarda siempre se refirió a sí misma como pequeña, pero además; desde el inicio Vegetta también llamaba a Foolish pequeño amigo o “my little friend” Que entendía Foolish? Entendía que era algo precioso? Entendía familia? Incluso al final, llego a llamar a Leo pequeña, “más pequeña que nunca” él lo volvió su forma de decirle a Leo que la quería.

El adapto la palabra y la re-significó para mostrar sus emociones.

Leo fue también la que lo ayudó a ser más vulnerable con sus emociones, a ponerlas en palabras que si bien no eran estrictamente un te amo mostraba que Foolish ya podía empezar a describirlas para alguien.

Y lo mismos pasó con bestie bestie. El último día él llamo a Vegetta “tú eres bestie bestie” con un tono el cual yo no puedo definir bien, pero cuando Vegetta respondió que él era su “bestie bestie more” Foolish jadeo. (Esto no soy yo sobre analizando, es así por una razón) Que fue lo que le dijo a Vegetta con esas palabras? Que entendió Foolish? Nótese además que lo dijo el último día que vería a Vegetta, sintió quizás que no lo volvería a ver después de ese día?

Quizás sintió que el mundo se acababa y por eso sintió la urgencia de decir todas las cosas que antes no pudo decir.

Y en ese sentido quizás los arrepentimientos de Foolish era que esperó, él ESPERABA por sus ambiciones de escalar de rango, a su familia cuando no estaban cerca, y el poder decir sus sentimientos… quizás se arrepentía de haber pensando que habría más tiempo.

“Love is great”

No existía una palabra suya que pudiera ser usada como un te amo. Aprendió de ellos, ellos le enseñaron a amar. Le mostraron amor y por una vez Foolish lo acepto todo y se permitió amar de una forma que jamás en el pasado había sucedido. Su forma de amar es ahora la que ellos le enseñaron.

Y ahora sin embargo podríamos hablar de frases que Foolish dijo a lo largo como “always juntos”, “we are written in the stars” frase que definió a su familia y también de:

“I couldn’t ask for anything better” Es una frase que pertenece a Foolish y que guardo para Vegetta. Foolish quien no podía irse sin decirle que agradecía todo

Y quien no conoce su historia probablemente no puede saber…

Porque al inicio Foolish se frustraba un poco cuando no podía entender porque Vegetta era tan amable, porque cuando Foolish escogió a Vegetta no estaba seguro de que él sería correspondido y Vegetta lo escogió también. Porque Vegetta quiso esperar al último huevo algo que Foolish aceptó y así obtuvieron a Leo quien fue su hija adorada y una de sus mayores compañías, porque luego Vegetta traería a Roier, porque le dio muchas cosas. Porque su más grande y memorable aventura en la isla inicio cuando fue emparejado con un constructor por un ticket y juntos formaron una familia con huevo y un hijo tonto.

Y no podía jamás pedir nada mejor.

.

.

y respecto a Roier… digamos que “segundo favorito” era un te quiero tonto.

fin del análisis :D

[ocasoinefable]

Es que el corazón lo sabe. Lo reconoce una vez que lo prueba. Sentir tanto y de tal manera; es estar tan cerca de la locura y de las nubes, del miticismo, la esencia entre vida y piel..

La noche es tranquila. No ha parado de llover desde esta mañana. Me siento a la orilla de los árboles, miro el cielo oscuro. Te leo lentamente mientras cierro los ojos y te siento aquí conmigo. disculpa que te contradiga, pero no. No alcanzas a sospechar como te miran estos ojos, como te sueña está alma, como se sonrojo este corazón al leerte. A veces lloro cuando susurro tu nombre y escribo sobre nosotros, una parte de mí está temblando ante este sentir. Teme; porque yo solo sabia de tristezas, de pesadillas y soledad, yo solo sé de renuncias, de comprender, como si fuera un lastre en el destino. Pero contigo, contigo sé sonreír, creer, soñar y me permito acariciar deseos que luego dejo que se quiebren en mis dedos con mi llanto, sé lo que es sentir que perteneces a un lugar; a tus brazos, a tus ojos. Tiemblo, porque sé que te voy amar a cada minuto de mi vida y eso hace que desee vivir, yo siendo un pájaro suicida.. abrazo la tierra y muerdo el mar hasta deshacer mis labios.

[fueledbyeibon]

Romance en Re sostenido

Me dicen por ahí la música es alimento

Del amor siendo hasta el cimiento

De la vida.

Entonces sería yo aquel pasado de peso,

Romántico hasta el hueso.

Qué ironía.

Más todo es al revés.

Le escribí más de trescientas diez canciones;

Y nada cambia aquí sigo de infeliz,

Buscando soluciones.

Me dicen por ahí que lo único necesario

Realmente extraordinario es el amor.

Entonces cambiaré o dejaré el canto y mi guitarra,

Pues no me han servido de nada.

Ahora leo.

Más todo sigue igual,

La lectura más capaz no me servirá.

Y es que la verdad, no he podido conjugar

El verbo amar.

Me encantaría caer, no sólo tropezar,

Por alguien que realmente aprecie mi cantar.

Y tengo tanto amor, mas no donde depositar;

Pues todo recipiente ocupado está.

¿Acaso soy el único que vive mal?

¿Así cómo no fallar?

[avroravia]

meet the writer!

you can call me amar <3

fave colours - dark red, navy blue, baby pink, brown

fave sanrio - charmmy kitty

fave brands - brandy melville, pacsun, aritzia, hollister, e.l.f, nyx

fave artists - beyoncè, sza, kendrick lamar, frank ocean, tyla

fave hobbies - writing, (getting into) drawing, and fashion

star sign - leo, leo sun, scorpio moon, libra rising, and libra venus

ethnicity - indian/punjabi

[erik--alonso]

Por esta nota, brillante, profunda, de Daniel Link, me entero que entre 1970 y 1971, en medio de una crisis con su compañero sentimental Ninetto Davoli, Pasolini se embarca en su "dilatado proyecto" de comprarse una torre medieval en Viterbo para apartarse del mundo. Ahí escribirá su libro Transhumanar y organizar del que Link pondrá un fragmento del poema "Versos del testamento", donde me quedo con esto:

La soledad: es necesario ser muy fuerte

Para amar la soledad; es necesario tener buenas piernas

Y una resistencia fuera de lo común; no se debe uno arriesgar

A resfríos, gripes o males de garganta; no se debe temer

A ladrones o asesinos; si te toca caminar. 

Alejarse para pensar, para estar en el mundo de una nueva forma, para sanarse, para escribir aunque uno ya no pueda comprarse una torre medieval como Pier Paolo.

Transhumanar, leo por acá, es un verbo inventado por Dante para explicar como fue su ascensión al cielo con Beatrice.

Transhumanar, dejar de ser humanos, no temer a ladrones o asesinos, alejarnos de los miedos terrenales del capitalismo.

Pienso en las preguntas que Roxane Gay hacía hace unos meses ante el miedo asesino de lo hombres: "Why are men so afraid? Why are they so fragile that they shoot or harm first and ask questions later? Why do they believe death or injury is an appropriate response to human fallibility?"

¿Por qué tenemos tanto miedo?

Pero también pienso en la trashumancia que es un tipo de pastoreo en continuo movimiento, donde el pastoreo se debe adaptar a los cambios del ambiente. ​

No quiero decir que para combatir el miedo es necesario caminar, porque lo vengo intentando desde hace muchos años y el miedo no desaparece, pero algo hay de eso. Para caminar, para pensar y enfrentar la soledad, en este mundo que se desmorona, es necesario ser fuertes como dice Pasolini. Ser pastores sin ovejas, como se llama un libro de Morábito que nunca pude terminar, pero del que nunca me olvido, y también, o sobre todo, como dice la otra parte del título del libro de Pasolini, organizarse.

Dejar de ser humanos y organizarnos.

Caminar y organizarse.

En fin, Pasolini siempre una vez más.

[eddy25960]

"No puedo dormir, no puedo concentrarme, no sé si soy buena o mala en la cama, odio el dolor, no puedo tener hijos, me cuesta tomar decisiones, no puedo mantener una relación amorosa, padezco depresiones, y tomo demasiados tranquilizantes. Bebo, miento, y, con frecuencia, deseo morir, aunque tengo pánico a la muerte y a las cosas muertas. Quiero amar, y, al mismo tiempo, lo sacrifico todo por mi carrera. Soy ignorante, tonta y vulgar, y leo libros y tengo maestros que creen que puedo ser una gran actriz, pero no puedo recordar los parlamentos del guion. Soy una estrella pero las productoras me odian. Creo en el matrimonio y la fidelidad pero me acuesto con otros... Dios mío, qué confusión".

Anotación de Marilyn Monroe en su diario

[magneticovitalblog]

"YA SE ME ACABO LA PACIENCIA"

Ya se me acaba la paciencia, lo confieso, como hojas doradas caen del otoño, ciertos hechos en mi alma grabados en verso, me han hecho más sabia, sin ningún retoño.

Las huellas del pasado son un libro amado, que leo en silencio, en noches calladas, experiencias vividas, en el alma grabadas, me enseñan a valorar lo que he superado.

Ya no pierdo tiempo en juegos fútiles, ni en danzas vanas que no llevan a ninguna parte, mi paciencia se ha convertido en un faro en la bruma, una brújula que apunta hacia lo importante.

No permito que personas tóxicas me roben la calma, con la madurez, aprendí a soltar lo que no suma, cuido mi espacio, mi energía, mi alma, y en mi jardín solo florecen rosas en espuma.

Las lecciones del pasado son tesoros valiosos, cosechados en las noches de lluvia y estrellas, me hacen apreciar la paz en los reposos, y seguir mi camino sin sombras de huellas.

La paciencia se me acaba, es cierto, pero es un regalo que el tiempo me brindó, aprender a no perder tiempo en lo incierto, valorando el presente, es lo que encontré yo.

Así, en esta senda donde el pasado se desvanece, me abrazo a la sabiduría que el tiempo trae, cada día es un regalo, un sol naciente, y la paciencia se convierte en un eterno laurel.

En la madurez, el alma florece en calma, como un río que encuentra su curso, y aunque la paciencia a veces se desarma, la experiencia nos guía con firme discurso.

Las sombras del pasado, ahora son luces, que iluminan el camino con su brillo suave, no perdemos tiempo en antiguas disputas, sabemos que la vida es demasiado breve.

Aprendemos a amar con un corazón sereno, a valorar a quienes suman en nuestro ser, en el jardín de la vida, plantamos un terreno, donde solo florece lo que nos hace crecer.

Así, se me acaba la paciencia, es cierto, pero la cambio por un amor más profundo, un amor que es un faro en el desierto, una pasión que solo se aviva en el segundo.

En el crepúsculo de los días ya vividos, en las huellas que marcan este sendero, encontramos la fuerza para los olvidos, y abrazamos el presente con un lazo sincero.

La paciencia se agota, pero el amor perdura, en la madurez, en la experiencia que se gesta, y aunque el tiempo pase como una criatura, el amor y la sabiduría son la mejor respuesta.

[valerieheir]

01/11/24 Viernes 01:30 am.

Tengo episodios de insomnio pero me niego a tomar para dormir, no quiero volver a eso en mi vida yo no era feliz.

Como siempre, tengo muchas almohadas en la cama y finjo que estoy abrazada a alguien, pero simplemente la textura y el frío no me dejan dormir en paz. Quiero aprender a dormir sola pero aún no puedo, y eso que pasó bastante tiempo. Yo quiero sentir que está ahí, que hay, que no estoy sola.

No me gusta dormir sola.

No espero a nadie, la cama es mía, no leo en mi mente puedo hablar todo lo que yo quiera porque nadie me escucha, hago un solo té y no comparto mi mesita. Siempre huele a crema, siempre elijo la película y aunque no quiera, siempre me duermo un poco triste.

Pienso muchísimo antes de dormir, variado, sobre todo proyecto mi vida en adelante, a veces veo a corto plazo a veces muy a largo. Desde qué ponerme el día siguiente hasta el momento donde pueda ser mamá. Me veo como profesional, tal vez teniendo un doctorado.

Muchas noches lloro pensando en los hijos que pude haber tenido, la vida que les pude haber dado, los padres que hubiese elegido. Aunque solo dos (Gino & Manu) son los que protagonizan mi angustia, creo que en otra vida si tuvimos una familia.

Me hubiese gustado estar bien para amar como se merecía a Gino, me hubiese hecho bien que el pueda salir adelante conmigo. El me amaba, yo fui muy tonta y aunque no fue con intención también fui muy mala. Yo no lo amé lo suficiente.

De Manuel no puedo hablar porque aún me lastima pensar, hago todo de mi vida desde que el no está, pero saber que tuve que ser mala para que el pueda dejarme ir a veces me duele. Tuve que tomar una decisión, una de las más hirientes de mi vida, sin importarme cuánto yo lo amaba me levanté y me fui intentando que le duela todo lo posible para que me deje ir, para que se enoje y no me ame mas, para que entienda que me voy y ya no hay vuelta atrás. Porque yo no volví, y no lo voy a hacer jamás.

Necesité que entienda el ardor que me generó su regreso, que pueda ver físicamente como me consumió la tristeza mientras el vivía tranquilo en mi ausencia.

Yo necesitaba lastimarlo para que no vuelva. Yo necesitaba que se enoje, que se priorice, que se ame a él.

Incluso con el corazón en las manos que ansiaba volver a tenerlo decidí irme para que aprenda a amar, porque no sabe, no supo, y yo pagué el precio.

Ojalá se motive, se encuentre, se quiera mucho. Que no deje por vago sus metas más importantes, que se organice y aprenda a no dejar todo para último momento. Ojalá vea con el tiempo que no quise ser mala. Que logre ver lo mucho que lo amo, que lo amé y que intenté como pude, con las herramientas que tuve darle lo que creí mejor para él.

Que aprenda de mi, que me recuerde siempre, que ame a una mujer que vale, que lo ame y lo respete.

Ojalá se enamore de otra mujer y tenga con ella lo que no me dejó darle.

Yo no duermo a veces pensando en que ropa le compraré a mis hijos, a donde nos iríamos de vacaciones, que deporte les gustaría practicar. Tampoco duermo pensando en los exámenes que tengo que rendir y a veces repaso temas de la facultad en la mente.

Pienso en mi papá y en mi abuela, pienso en mis amigas, pienso en poetas o escritores. Hay un poema que no se de quién es pero lo sé completo y lo recito hasta cansarme o confundirme.

Pero me pasa por dormir sola, porque cuando recuerdo que estaba ahí no pensaba en nada más que en el.

Y pocas veces me dormía triste, aunque no era feliz.

[itastrologia]

astro notes | one

—🥪 Venus or Ascendant in Leo may like wearing animal print, specially leopard print clothing. I'm thinking of leopard coats 🐆👑

—🥪The 3rd house pertains to television content that is liked or loved the most watching, based on its sign. Example: Aries in the 3rd house cusp could love action shows or real-life based tv movies.

—🥪Mars in Scorpio could have be prone to have tattoos specially of something symbolizing Scorpio itself.

—🥪Sagittarius Jupiter has a plethora of dreams/wishes to be hopeful about. Perhaps, even a liking for knowing everything more than anyone else. It gives a rush of motivation and adrenaline.

Might even have loving and lenient grandparents (Jupiter represents grand-parents, too) 

—🥪Lilith at 9 degrees could have an attraction towards esoteric practices of a shady nature or might even know a lot of it already or else, might even believe in magick. There's a lot of taboo surrounding such practices. 

—🥪Vesta in the 6th house takes routine as a pretty sacred thing. There's the possibility of becoming a nun or doing volunteerism for disadvantaged people. 

❤️‍🔥

-🥪 A Venere o all'Ascendente in Leone può piacere indossare abiti con stampe animali, in particolare leopardati. Sto pensando a cappotti leopardati, adesso 🤭

-🥪 La terza casa riguarda i contenuti televisivi che piacciono o che si amano di più guardando, in base al loro segno. Esempio: L'Ariete nella cuspide della 3a casa potrebbe amare i programmi d'azione o i telefilm basati sulla vita reale.

-🥪Marte in Scorpione potrebbe avere tatuaggi, specialmente di qualcosa che rappresenta lo Scorpione stesso.

-🥪Giove in Sagittario ha una marea di sogni/desideri in cui sperare. Forse, anche è propenso a voler sapere tutto più di chiunque altro. Gli dà grinta.

Potrebbe anche avere nonni amorevoli e indulgenti (Giove rappresenta anche i nonni) che gli danno tutto quello che vuole.

-🥪La Lilith a 9 gradi potrebbe essere attratta dalle pratiche esoteriche di natura oscura o potrebbe addirittura conoscerne già molte, oppure potrebbe addirittura credere nella magia. C'è molto tabù a riguardo.

-🥪 L'asteroide Vesta nella 6ª casa considera la routine come una cosa assai sacra. C'è la possibilità di diventare suora o di fare volontariato per le persone svantaggiate, ad esempio.

Thank you for reading!!! 🤭😘

[amateurvoltaire]

Mathiez: Robespierre and the Law of Prairial

Albert Mathiez often comes across as Robespierre's biggest cheerleader. In 1924 at the request of Leo Poldes he delivered a speech designed to defend him. This speech is obviously biased in favour of Robespierre, but Mathiez does make some interesting points that have been echoed by subsequent historians.

Before reading this fragment of the speech, please remember that Mathiez delivered it 100 years ago, in the aftermath of the First World War. It goes without saying that some perspectives might not fully necessarily align with those of modern audience.

Warning: Lots of text

English Translation

(...)

These are, if I am not mistaken, the three fundamental grievances that allow some republicans to condemn Robespierre(1). As none of these republicans would dare claim that the Terror, that is the set of exceptional measures imposed on the Convention by foreign and internal war, was the personal creation of Robespierre – as they well know that the responsibility lies with the entire revolutionary party, or rather with the circumstances – I can be quite brief in my response to this first reproach. Reserving for later the cases of Danton and Hébert, I simply ask Robespierre's censors if they think that his participation in the establishment and functioning of the revolutionary dictatorship was inspired by personal rancor, by unspeakable ambitions, by a taste for blood? In a word, did he use the Terror for selfish ends? Now, I ask them to first consider that Robespierre was the personification of disinterest, dying penniless, leaving only the value of 800 livres in assignats as his legacy. I ask them to reflect on the fact that the men of blood, those who wanted to cut through all difficulties with the guillotine – and I mean by this not only the Hébertists but also the Enragés who preceded them – had no more constant adversary than Robespierre, who denounced them to the Convention and to the Jacobins with courage and perseverance beyond all praise, for he could have lost his popularity, since the Enragés and Hébertists had behind them the starving and wretched masses. The truth is that Robespierre, whose heart was humane and even tender, and whose faith in liberty was deep and sincere, only accepted the Terror gradually and with regret as a temporary and deplorable regime, unfortunately necessary. He intervened whenever he could to snatch victims from the knife who he judged innocent or merely misled. I can only cite a few examples here. When Amar, on October 3, 1793, had the Girondin deputies who had stirred up the departments indicted, a friend of Danton, Osselin, proposed adding to the list the names of the 73 deputies who had protested against the Parisian day of June 2. The prohibited Assembly was about to vote for the death motion, when Robespierre stood up to fight it. He had been the enemy of the Girondins, who had horribly slandered him. He saved the 73, but not without difficulty, for he had to fight against the murmurs of the Mountain at the outset. Robespierre's calumniators indeed excel at turning against him the acts of humanity that do him the most honor. If he saved the 73, they say, it was not out of humanity, but out of ambition. He wanted to win their gratitude and rely on them to achieve dictatorship. To this charitable reasoning, there is a simple and decisive answer. When Robespierre courageously opposed, on October 3, the indictment of the 73, they were already in prison, no longer participating in any voting. They were all replaced by their substitutes and did not return to the Convention until several months after the fall of the man who had saved them. Having no vote, how could they have been of any assistance to the ambition of their protector?

Numerous and significant facts prove that while Robespierre was inexorable in striking the enemies of revolutionary France, he at least strove to minimize repression to the bare necessity. He attempted, in vain, to save Louis XVI's sister, Mme Elisabeth, contesting against Hebert at the Jacobins on 1st Frimaire. He tried to save Constituent Thouret, compromised in the prison conspiracy, with only his signature missing from Thouret's arrest warrant. He saved the signatories of the royalist petitions of the 8,000 and 20,000 at the Jacobins' session on the 29th Ventôse. His brother, Robespierre the Younger, during his mission in Franche-Comté in the month of Pluviôse, year II, freed hundreds of suspects from overcrowded prisons. Napoleon at Saint Helena told Las Cases that he had seen long letters from Robespierre the Elder to Robespierre the Younger, then on mission in Toulon and the Italian army, where the former wrote to the latter that the excesses of the proconsuls "dishonored the Revolution and would kill it." An agent of the Committee of Public Safety, Eve Demaillot, recounts that the abbé Le Duc, the natural son of Louis XV, about to go to the scaffold, owed his life to Robespierre. It is an undeniable fact that Robespierre, informed by Julien of Paris about the excesses committed by Carrier in Nantes and by Tallien in Bordeaux, had them both recalled immediately. He likewise recalled Barras and Fréron, who had sullied themselves with blood and plunder during their mission in the South, Rovere and Poultier, who in the Vaucluse directed the black bands organized for the plundering of national assets; the sinister Fouché, who, after having the Lyon aristocrats mass-fired for months, found it more convenient in the end to sell them freedom and incarcerate in their place the Lyon patriots, friends of Chalier, their victim.

These recalled proconsuls, upon returning to Paris, prepared the intrigue of the 9th Thermidor.

But I hear the major objection. If Robespierre wanted to moderate the Terror, then to abolish it, how is it that he voted with Couthon for the atrocious law of Prairial? I have no intention, of course, of defending this law which eliminated defenders and allowed jurors to be satisfied with moral evidence in the absence of material evidence. But it is important to specify the exact part of responsibility of Robespierre and Couthon and to understand their reasons.

After Thermidor, when Collot, Billaud, and Barère were persecuted by the reaction they had unleashed, they claimed that the law of Prairial was the sole work of Robespierre and Couthon, who had allegedly presented it to the Convention without consulting the Committee of Public Safety. This claim is inadmissible. The law of Prairial only extended to the Revolutionary Tribunal of Paris provisions already decided by the Committee of Public Safety for the Commission of Orange, which was to punish counter-revolutionaries of Vaucluse. The decree creating the Commission of Orange, dated 21st Floréal, bears the signatures of Collot, Barère, Billaud, alongside those of Robespierre and Couthon. The instruction, the regulation that completed the decree, is signed only by Carnot, Billaud, and Couthon. According to Lecointre, Courtois, and Saladin, this instruction served as a model for the law of Prairial. The same provisions and expressions appear in both. When reproached by Lecointre on the 13th Fructidor for signing documents related to the Commission of Orange, Billaud-Varenne firmly claimed his responsibility, saying it was Couthon who authored the decree establishing the Commission of Orange; he wasn't sure if he had signed it but declared he would do so immediately if he hadn't. Furthermore, Billaud and Barère both defended the law of Prairial in sessions on the 22nd and 24th of Prairial. It is thus beyond doubt that this infamous law was not the particular work of Couthon and Robespierre, but the result of deliberations by the entire Committee.

But what necessities did the exceptional measures prescribed by the law respond to in the minds of its authors? To understand their mindset, one must not be unaware of the nature of the jurisdiction of the Revolutionary Tribunal. It was an exceptional jurisdiction, a political jurisdiction, similar to our High Court or military tribunals. It could only fulfill its purpose, which was to prevent plots by terrifying the enemies of the regime, by striking them with speed and severity. The task of the Revolutionary Tribunal was particularly burdened since the law of the 27th Germinal, voted on Saint-Just's report, had abolished all the revolutionary tribunals in the provinces to transfer all the accused to Paris. Saint-Just and Robespierre, with this measure, wanted to reduce the arbitrariness that had prevailed in the provinces even more than in Paris. The accused from the provinces were thus flooding into the capital. One of the objectives of the law of Prairial was to allow the tribunal to function more rapidly.

Couthon supported the abolition of defenders with two reasons, one political and the other sentimental. Allowing defense speeches, he said, was to provide a platform for royalism and the enemy. "The tribunal set up to punish conspirators resounded with blasphemy against the Revolution and deceitful declamations aimed at prosecuting it in the presence of the people." And here is the sentimental reason: "Defenders extorted the accused in a scandalous manner; one had demanded 1,500 livres for a plea - the poor were not defended."

As for Robespierre, he reminded that for two years the Convention had been under the knife of assassins, thus referring to the assassination of Le Peletier and Marat, and the recent attempts against Collot d'Herbois and himself. "We expose ourselves," he said, "to individual assassins to pursue the public assassins. We are willing to die', but let the Convention and the patriots be saved." In other words, Robespierre presented the new law as a law of retaliation, and it seems undoubted to me that the successive attempts by Admiral and Cécile Renault at the beginning of Prairial did indeed provoke in Robespierre, who was recovering from illness, a sort of feverish exaltation.

To judge this terrible law, one must put oneself back in the atmosphere of the time. It may be easier for us since we have seen, after Charleroi, courts-martial organized without recourse to grace, revision, appeal, without jurors! by a simple decree signed by Millerand. Anatole France, who effortlessly transports himself into the revolutionary past that is so familiar to him, has pleaded for indulgence for Robespierre in these remarkable terms: "One cannot hold him responsible for everything that was done then, any more than for public spirit and customs. The law of Prairial, we are told, behold his crime! Come on, let's not be hypocrites. We would revolt today against a law that would eliminate defenders and witnesses before the tribunal, it is understood; evidence, defense, those are sacred guarantees for the accused, agreed; but we all know well that in the full Terror, these guarantees were only apparent and that the defender was then the scourge of the accused and that the witnesses could never serve him. The law of Prairial, - it eliminates phantoms!" The word of Saint-Just testifies to a deep conviction: "The law gives as defenders to slandered patriots, patriotic jurors; it grants none to conspirators." What is needed at that time, what is suitable, is not the ordinary, formalist and slow justice, but an expeditious, yet sentimental justice, a patriarchal justice. It becomes increasingly difficult to attribute to one or another man of the Revolution more natural cruelty or more deliberate malice than to any other; whether Girondist or Dantonist, the only means of action known then was proscription or death. Re-read André Chénier, this constitutional royalist:

O virtue! This dagger, the only hope of the earth, Is my sacred weapon! ...

Chénier, Marat, Hébertists or Feuillants, they are all for violence; all advocate the same means and the author of Jeune Captive appears comparatively to have been among the most fierce. Robespierre was not known to be crueller than the others, and he was not." Do you not think, citizens, that Anatole France often has more historical insight than many historians?

One would be greatly mistaken to believe that the indignation shown by some deputies during the deliberation of the law was inspired by a horror of arbitrariness. These deputies were primarily concerned with themselves. Of all the articles of the law, they only took issue with the one that seemed to allow the Committee of Public Safety to directly transfer them to the Revolutionary Tribunal without a preliminary vote from the Convention, and they obtained an interpretation from the Convention that protected them.

From then on, the political objective that Robespierre undoubtedly had in mind with the law of Prairial escaped him. It seems hardly doubtful to me that after the Festival of the Supreme Being, he was resolved to stop the Terror. Even on the eve of the festival, the 20th Prairial, the deputy Faure had written to him to propose a general amnesty. Faure would not have given this advice if he had not been sure that his suggestion would be welcomed. Another deputy, the Girondin Girault, one of the 73 imprisoned at La Force, also wrote to him on the 26th Prairial, inviting him to "finish his work," that is, to hasten his and his colleagues' release. Robespierre declared to the Jacobins on the 23rd Messidor that his principles were "to stop the effusion of human blood shed by crime." Many other signs prove that he had resolved to stop the sinister work of the guillotine at the very moment when he was having the law of Prairial voted, which, however, accelerated it! How to resolve this apparent contradiction? Robespierre "had suffered, as Jaurès has well said, both in his dignity and in his self-esteem, and in his pure love of the Revolution, from the atrocious violence that had dishonored here and there the revolutionary government. He could not forget them, he hated them all the more because, having been unable to prevent them, he might appear to be complicit." With a high sense of justice and equality, he wanted to end the Terror with a grand example by striking down the five or six corrupt and bloodthirsty proconsuls who had abused their functions. He thought thus to reconcile the people with the Revolution by showing them that those who had turned the dictatorship to their personal profit were not below the common law since they would atone for their crimes like the multitude of simple convicts. The law of Prairial was supposed to allow him to reach these five or six rogues, who were protected by parliamentary immunity. The Convention's interpretation having thwarted his plan, Robespierre stopped attending the Committee of Public Safety, he lost interest in his law, perhaps he regretted having voted for it. In any case, he remained totally estranged from the batches of the great Terror. His action was then null on the government. He was in the minority in the Committee of Public Safety, and he had almost the unanimous opposition of the Committee of General Security. The public accuser Fouquier-Tinville, who was the main operative of the Revolutionary Tribunal, was very hostile to him. In vain had he tried to obtain his replacement on the 8th Messidor; he had not succeeded. The Committee had kept Fouquier in office, and by doing so, it bears the responsibility for the great Terror. Even M. Aulard had to recognize this. The 9th Thermidor was not made by men who wanted to stop the Terror, but on the contrary by men who had abused the Terror and who wanted to prolong it for their benefit, to protect themselves. What do they reproach him for, in fact, in the session of the 9th Thermidor? Is it for having dragged innocent victims to the scaffold? Billaud-Varenne accuses him on the contrary of indulgence, notably for having initially opposed the arrest of Danton. He is also reproached for having protected former nobles and for having dismissed the most impetuous of the revolutionary committees of Paris. The obscure Louchet, who proposed the decree of accusation, would claim, three weeks later, as the only means of public salvation, the implementation of the Terror.

The royalist Beaulieu, who was in prison on the 9th Thermidor, tells us that his first impression and that of the other detainees upon learning of Robespierre's death was the fear of an escalation of the Terror. "Occupied in our prisons with looking for hope in the speeches made, either at the Jacobins or in the Convention, we saw that everything that was said was disheartening, but that Robespierre still seemed the least extreme."

Because the Terrorists were outdone after the event, because they failed to stop the reaction they had involuntarily unleashed, and because they cleverly later projected the responsibility for their own crimes onto their victim, the odious legend formed that Robespierre was the incarnation of the Terror and the supplier of the guillotine.

"The name of the vanquished," said Louis Blanc, "is exposed to the stain of many lies when the victors reign, who speak or hold the pen. Woe to him who succumbs after having made everything tremble! Hatred descends with him into the tomb, settles there, and long after the worms of the sepulcher have finished gnawing at his body, calumny is there, continuing to besmirch his memory."

French Source:

Défense de Robespierre Author(s): Albert Mathiez Source: Annales historiques de la Révolution française, 1ère Année, No. 2 (Mars-Avril 1924), pp.97-114

Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/41924280

Extra notes

(1) Mathiez’s premise for the defence is that there are 3 things people accuse Robespierre of: 1- the terror, 3- the death of the indulgents and herberists , and 3- the dechristianization.