#became

[wiirocku]

John 1:14 (NKJV) - And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we beheld His glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth.

[stoicmike]

You never know how you became such a person…. -- Michael Lipsey

[taylorswiftandx]

Taylor Swift and Becoming

'Taylor Swift'

(no becoming)

'Fearless (Taylor's Version)'

Bye Bye Baby: Feels like I'm becoming a part of your past

'Speak Now (Taylor's Version)'

(no becoming)

'Red (Taylor's Version)'

Better Man: I wonder what we would've become if you were a better man

Nothing New: Lord, what will become of me once I've lost my novelty?

Message In A Bottle: And I became hypnotized by freckles and bright eyes, tongue tied

'1989 (Taylor's Version)'

Wonderland: Haven't you heard what becomes of curious minds?

'reputation'

New Year's Day: Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere

'Lover'

Cornelia Street: Sacred new beginnings that became my religion, listen

Daylight: And so I became the butt of the joke

'folklore'

This Is Me Trying: I was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere

'evermore'

Ivy: So tell me to run or dare to sit and watch what we'll become and drink my husband's wine

'Midnights'

Anti-Hero: Midnights become my afternoons

Bejeweled: Sapphire tears on my face, sadness became my whole sky

Bigger Than The Whole Sky: Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness

Other Songs written by Taylor

The Alcott: Have I become one of your problems?

Official Alternate Releases

(no becoming)

[thestarlightforge]

What the Antihero, Your Villain, Has Left

12/31/22

***

It’s interesting how sometimes, the early stages of grief are anger, and these fade into sadness until sadness is all that’s left for a long time—and sometimes, it’s the other way around.

When I was a teenager and had a messy friend-divorce, a situation which left me extremely isolated and cut off from most of my close friends, it was sadness that followed fury. I was angry for years—about how they behaved, what they had said, their abandonment and betrayals. Until eventually, I just missed them—their memories lit in blues, shades of melancholy finally mixing with peace.

But even now at age 24, when you would hope such things would seem less material than in childhood—since adults, in theory, can choose where they go, where they live, and who they see—when I have to leave my extended family after holiday visits, I am left not with sorrow, but with wrath.

For much of my childhood, I simply cried when we left them. I didn’t cry much as a kid—my sibling cried more often—but when I got injured (Brittle Bones) and when we would leave: Those were the times I cried. We would get in the car, and I’d weep for hours. That kind of crying that’s so intense, you choke on your snot from the utter hopelessness. Sometimes, I’d barely get out a “goodbye.” Just had to hope they knew.

Some of those tears were angry, I’m sure, and sobbing can tear forth from the body as violently as screaming can. But in theory, crying is a more helpless, sad emotion, relegated to emasculation—while anger breaks out, from snide remarks to roars, imbued with some fool’s-gold version of power. Whether erudite or brutish, ire can feel like strength, like righteousness—like taking control back.

There is a black torrent of feeling that pours from waves of this realization: That other people could have chosen a whole different life for you, but they didn’t, and you couldn’t. That a world almost existed in which this endless cycle of grief you experience was replaced by a robust support system of family and community—no matter how broken or strange—when you were so young, you couldn’t even form memories of living far away. But it doesn’t exist.

You don’t know how things would’ve turned out in this other world. But from the little glimpses you’ve gotten every school or work vacation all your life, you feel like it would’ve been a good one. A life where, when disaster struck, family may have shown up more often (whether by will or ability). There would’ve been places to go, people to see, when fighting started or struggles arose. Friends to hold in good times and sad.

What or whom you might’ve missed out on in this phantom reality, you do not know—who you may or may not have become is anyone’s guess. But you would’ve been free of this bullshit, anyway.

It does not dignify abusive characters, of course. But I wonder, sometimes, if people who condemn antiheroes, or characters who struggle to do “good,” simply have not tasted much of disempowerment. There is an emptiness, a longing, a helplessness so profound it struggles to find description—and from that, a bitter, deep and primal rage—that is wrapped into the understanding that you almost had the love you deserved, but it was taken from you. That even if you manage to build new things, there are worlds of love you missed out on—worlds you didn’t have to miss, if only for a few different choices.

Tragic corruption arcs in stories are composed out of characters having blended culpability for this: Characters make some of these choices for themselves, usually after some are made for them. Redemption arcs come after and, as much as I love them, sometimes have a habit of individualizing the consequences of systems of oppression—characters accept blame for their own traumas, instead of anyone holding the people or oppressive world who hurt them accountable.

But either way, the best written antiheroes and villains emerge from shadows of love.

Even if someone hasn’t experienced this personally, art is meant to confer empathy—I don’t understand why the “complicated antihero/villain” phenomenon is so hard for some people to grasp. Maybe because they would rather stay in sadness. Because they want to believe they wouldn’t pick up the daggers, the magic or the poison. That they could never lash out so. That if confronted with the power to remake their world—to tear their love and justice from the jaws of those who took or would take it, or at least to punish them—they wouldn’t be tempted.

But as I sit in the back seat of the car, my parents driving us away from my loved ones once again, my disabled (24 y/o) “adulthood” be damned—away from the kinds of support systems that nearly all of my cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents had close by all my life, while my parents, sibling and I lived elsewhere:

I understand.

[mioakem]

bro gay ppl cannot break up normally

[wormspoodle]

compiled some things

[kedreeva]

Following the author of The Last Unicorn on Facebook is the only thing that makes being on that site worthwhile.

(source)

[arcanegifs]

ARCANE LEAGUE OF LEGENDS: 2x06 - “The Message Hidden Within the Pattern”

[youngerfrankenstein]

Doofenshmirtz is kind of proof that you can, in fact, make one of the funniest characters out there by throwing shit at the wall.

He’s a supervillain, he’s amicably divorced, he was raised by ocelots, his evil ambitions only stretch as far as taking over the tri-state area, he’s in a romantically-coded/joked about rivalry with a sentient platypus, he’s a good dad, he once lost a fight with a potted plant, he was forced to be a lawn gnome. But most importantly, he never gives up.

[wiirocku]

John 1:14 (NKJV) - And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we beheld His glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth.

[primepaginequotidiani]

PRIMA PAGINA The Guardian di Oggi mercoledì, 02 ottobre 2024

[nouverx]

[WIP] because I'm tempted to paint the first sketch eheh we'll see

[carltonblaylock]

Aaron’s Rod Became a Serpent

   Type                           Nature Agent Moses; Aaron Patient Aaron’s Rod Location Egypt (nation) Theme Cults and Non-Christian Religions Tags Transformation Exodus 7:10-13 10 So Moses and Aaron went in to Pharaoh, and they did so, just as the Lord commanded. And Aaron cast down his rod before Pharaoh and before his servants, and it became a serpent. 11 But Pharaoh also called the…

[ukdailymail]

'Britain's Bill Gates' - Mike Lynch's tips for building a business

[chthonicillness]

anyone else uhh..... anyone else ummmm. anyone else. anyone else, anyone.. anyone, anyone. oh god anyone

[haveihitanerve]

I don’t think we, as a fandom, discuss how absolutely WILD it must have been for Tim to switch from idolizing Dick to having him literally being his brother who will casually chug a gallon of milk just to prevent Tim from getting any.

Like personally if fucking Zendaya or like Orlando Bloom showed up at my house and started treating me as a sister I would get WHIPLASH