#being twenty

[thevisions-soul]

im twenty years old

twenty years old in the sense that i still call my mom whenever i don't know how to do something

but sometimes my mom actually tells me to figure it out for myself

that i'm "an adult"

twenty years old in the sense that i'm on zoloft now and it's like finally turning away from the shadows and seeing the real world

in that i am finally starting to feel settled in my body

and maybe even starting to understand my mind?

i'm twenty years old in the way that i can't think about the fact that i'll never be a teenager again without having a panic attack

but i'm so excited to meet who i'll be when im twenty-five

it's like taking a step toward nirvana

out of the forest and into the meadow

like finally learning to trust that "yes i remember locking the door"

like not going back to check

i'm twenty years old and i can feel my frontal cortex developing

and it doesn't feel like the year is mostly winter

i'll be twenty-one in july

and i'm far away enough from nineteen that it almost doesn't make me want to puke to think about it

and i hate my job but it brought me to a life i want to live

so i guess they were right after all,

sometimes you'll just understand it when you're older

[wolfie-wolfgang]

being twenty

[inbabylontheywept]

so once me and my wife were watching a documentary where a snake ate like a million eggs. that snake just went to fucking town on eggs. and the snake made the eggs look so good that i kept thinking about it, and thinking about it, and thinking about it, and eventually it was 11pm and i ran out of willpower and decided to eat one (1) singular raw egg just to prove to myself that the snake was surely a liar.

the snake was not a liar. texture is like, super important to me and raw eggs are very Texture so i had another one, and then another one, and then another one, and eventually i ran out of eggs.

i had like, fifteen raw eggs.

i didnt really know how to explain this momentary madness to my wife, so my Plan was to put all the eggshells into a grocey bag, and then throw that grocery bag in the dumpster, and if she never noticed that would be Excellent and if she noticed immediately i could lie and say that the eggs went bad.

except i cant lie very good, and of course with murphys law being such, i got salmonella.

so i threw up a lot and my wife asked me what poisoned me so and i tried very hard to dodge the question but i was oozing shame like oil from a room temperature cheese and eventaully i gave in and told her everything and to her enormous credit she was more flabbergasted than actually upset. she did make me promise to not eat any more raw eggs, which i have stuck to, and she gives me weird looks during nature documentaries now as if desire was the only thing keeping me from eating thousands of pounds of krill anyway i made a joke earlier about being able to eat my age in eggs and my sister in law in law made a drawing to comemorate the moment and also because it was my birthday. she's excellent. thank you 10000000% @cintailed. you should all visit her page and admire her work.

[keamyeon]

state of mind at 110723 0:20

getting anonymously acknowledged while staring into space during online classes for an essay i wrote weeks ago triggered my ego a bit. these days, i had been thinking that i had good potential of being a writer, despite my poor vocabulary skills. having billions of thoughts about my own life and being able to put them down into words gives me a sense of satisfaction, being well-aware that what i just said is self-explanatory and 'normal-human-being' understandable. i do not have sentiments over the course subject nor the professor at all, but i only liked the ideas of personal essays. it asks you questions that nobody actually asks but you'd love to talk about. you want me to know my ideal marriage and family? i'd gladly tell you. i could write a 100-page essay if you required me to (don't though, please). anyway, the moment made me dive into another essay i made talking about my vocational path story, and my november 7th self just finds my previous self's mind so genius.

so what should a girl do?

create a blog to post the essay alongside many others soon, where you have the full permission to be completely serious without feeling the need to insert humorous side comments to lighten the tone in case an irl reads it and thinks, "wow, this is so different from how she expresses herself in reality".

given my self-proclaimed smooth introduction to this blog, i will now be leaving the oh-so-relatable essay... because i wrote it myself.

Ever since I was a child, I was always fascinated seeing people older than me find their passion or calling in life. Whatever path they took, I found them cool and wondered how I would eventually find my own someday. I didn’t think much about it, brushed it off, and thought that it was my older self’s problem to worry about. As I got older, I was only living and enjoying life with what was given in front of me. During my early teenage years, I found it difficult to join school clubs because I really didn’t know what I wanted to do and ended up joining wherever my friends went – so at least I wasn’t alone. When it was time to choose a strand for senior high school, I chose to go for the strand that was aligned to the path that my late father took, initially wanting to honor him in that way. Then came the period where we had to apply to universities and colleges with our decided course. As I didn’t grow up wanting to become something or even be part of a certain school, I was confused and lost. While pondering over this, I thought about the path that I told myself I would take to honor my father – which was becoming a programmer. I hesitated to take it – I thought that I wouldn’t truly enjoy doing it. I looked at my friends in that same path and I saw that even though they would complain about the hard work, it was still something they stood by for and never gave up on – because of passion, perhaps. I felt different, and so I was made to look back at my past and question myself if there was something I really loved or was interested in – something that I thought I had potential in, with hopes of finding what would be worth taking. It was then when I remembered that during my childhood, I always loved playing with pictures, graphics, and videos. I enjoyed editing for fun – since I was just a little kid who stayed at home, always stuck with their family computer as a way of passing time. I really enjoyed doing that and explored multimedia arts. Realizing how interesting it was, I thought that maybe if this is what I took, it would be something worthwhile. As I am now writing an essay under this course as a student in this college, you may now predict what happened next. However, I chose to make that decision roughly three years ago. Being seventeen and twenty is totally different – especially when you get exposed to such talented, skilled, and hardworking art students. I knew from the start that I lacked the artistic skills – making this decision was all based on a phase that I had from my childhood, and never chose to pursue or develop during my high school years. Today, I will admit that I have doubts about this path I took. While this course is so much fun, and most of the time the hard work is worth it, given my progress and skills, I don’t know if this is something that would help me last long and sustain myself in the future. Nonetheless, there are things still clear to me. First of all, it is given that I have a trait of being indecisive, but as much as a human can do, I can only do so much. Secondly, I may not have a practical dream as people around me have, but I do have a dream of what type of life I want to live.

I dream to be one of the cool adults that my childhood self looked up to – independent, passionate, and hardworking. I want to enjoy whatever I decide to do from now on – whether I will focus on a path in multimedia arts, or even if I deviate from this. With much more importance, I just also want to choose the path where God directs me to be. Surely, that way will lead me in fulfilling the purpose ultimately designed for me and help me become what I wish and need to be.

[angsty-art-ist]

certified coolkid moment: finding the rotting corpse of your classmate in the woods

[apprentice-s]

how could you ask that of me?

[varpusvaras]

Luke and Leia would not be the same people if they had grown up with their bio parents. If they had grown up with their bio parents, they would've grown up in the suburbs. Luke is like that because he grew up as a gay kid in the middle of nowhere tuning up 20-year-old cars he could then drive around without a proper licence while five different gangs roamed around. Leia is like that because she was raised by people in their forties who were on the radical left. They are not the same.

[umblrspectrum]

"smaller mass" you say

[crickit-song]

Ok they really are the gayest couple I've seen in a while huh

[reputayswift]

“I want a new sound for TS12” you guys couldn’t even handle It’s Nice To Have a Friend 😔

[megamindsupremacy]

So like, y'all know that popular Star Wars fic trope of Time Traveling Obi-Wan Kenobi where he dies and then wakes up in his 11ish year old body back in the Jedi Temple? You know how usually he wakes up, has a few minutes/hours of confusion, and then goes about trying to act like he was at age 11 while slowly fixing everything wrong with the Jedi Order? Personally I think he would not do that.

I think that Ben "Lived As A Wizard Hermit For Two Decades On Tattooine, Left, And Then Died Immediately" Kenobi would wake up as an eleven-year-old, have a panic attack, attack the nearest adult Jedi while accusing them of Doing Weird Sith Shit To His Brain, fucking flee, only then realize he has time traveled, steal someone's ship, go flying out of the temple to god knows where, continue panicking, crash into a random moon while distracted, nearly die, build a survival camp out of his broken ass ship and eat whatever bugs he can find, get kidnapped by pirates, overthrow said pirates, steal their ship, and then very calmly return to the Jedi temple like nothing happened.

Then and only then do I think he would start trying to act like a normal human person (while also dodging questions such as "what the fuck was that" and "where were you" and "is that a pirate's ship?"), except he'd be bad at it due to having lived as an Insane Wizard Desert Hermit for the past twenty years who has experienced enough trauma and time that he doesn't super well remember the details of his childhood, what with all of the wars and death and wars and such.

His acting convinces nobody, but nobody is sure what exactly to do about All Of That so he's for the most part left alone (after very vehemently refusing sptherapy), all the way up until he catches a glimpse of palpatine out of the corner of his eye and then its On Sight

[pricegouge]

Thinking of nanny!reader x daddy!price once again... You really ate there, damn

[fic]

oh ms. messy... wonder what she's been up to...

"fuckin' call me messy," you grumble under your breath, the pre-wetted wipe in your hands going dry with overuse. emily squirms, her chubby little cheek gone red with the attention.

"not s'ppose'ta say tha'word." face squished in your hand as it is, the accusation comes out too muffled to hold her usual attitude. like this, she's almost cute. or would be, if not for the garish colors still staining her eyelids.

"and you're not supposed to use markers like makeup, but here we are."

she rolls her eyes, the brat, smudgy purple lines fading up into her eyebrows raising with the effort, as if everything in her tiny little body was put into the motion. "wha'ss'a diffr'nce anyway?"

"well for one, makeup comes off with makeup wipes," you snark, tossing another stained towelette into the bin, tie-dye collection starting to overflow. "for another i don't think 'bluetiful' is really your color."

"blue is a primary color," she informs you, apropos of nothing, as if that should explain why she'd tried using it as as a highlighter.

you pause in your endeavor, the bright red 'blush' on her cheek bleeding down the crease of her nose. "that is true," you agree sagely, and then damn near jump out of your skin when a gruff voice behind you asks if she knows her other primaries.

emily lists off a good fourteen colors - far too many from your understanding, though it had been a long time since you were in preschool; maybe they'd added some. you used the time to check yourself out in the bathroom mirror covertly, though you catch him catching you, eyes meeting somewhere around the fourth shade of yellow. "mr. price," you greet him casually, voice too meek in your effort not to interrupt emily's learning.

he doesn't even nod, eyes heavy on you as he lets his daughter prattle off every shade of the crayolla box she'd become overly familiar with. you'd say he's getting worse but he's always been like this - too intense, too direct - and saying as much felt like a jinx, like a dare to the universe at large to make him, impossibly, more driven. "ms. messy," he drawls quietly, the title a low purr as he lets his eyes drag over you. you'd worn shorts today, confident and cheeky in the privacy of your room. he always managed to wrangle that control from you this easily, with barely more than a pointed look that set you back to basics, suddenly remembering the game you're playing. who with.

attempting to save face, you turn back to emily and whisper to her, thick as thieves. "coulda told me he was right behind me. now i look bad, not using this as a teaching opportunity."

emily tells you it's actually your job to know when her dad's home because she's a little shit, but you barely hear it because john takes that opportunity to assure you you don't look bad, doubles down when he sees how flustered he's made you. "emily, doesn't ms. messy look nice?"

and maybe there is a reason you keep coming back for more (other than her hot father and his seemingly bottomless pocket) because she just nods animatedly, sloppy bun you'd piled her hair into bobbing. you start to murmur your thanks, but she ruins the moment just as suddenly as she'd started it, motioning to her colorful face and proudly announcing she'd been trying to look like you.

"oh," you hedge, unsure how you feel about a child thinking drunk drag makeup was the key to stealing your look.

john, thankfully, comes to your rescue. "oh, munchkin. you know ms. messy doesn't need all that to look pretty."

well, maybe 'thankfully' was a strong word. "and neither do you. you're pretty just the way you are," you assert, trying to steer the conversation into something more manageable just as you steer the girl before you back your way, tilting her head so you can get a particularly well saturated bit on her brow.

"prettier than you?" she asks, cheeky, and you roll your eyes much like she had, far too exaggeratedly. let her dad have fun with that bad habit.

"well of course!"

she giggles, turns to face her father as best she can when you've got her whole jaw cupped in your hand. "daddy, am i prettier than ms. messy?"

you don't think he's mean enough to give his kid a complex in the name of flirting with someone half his age, but your breath catches anyway, waiting in anticipation as he lets the moment drag on.

surely your heart's racing because you want him to say no. right?

"now that you mention it, ms. messy sure could use some sprucing up, hm?" you scoff and flick the dirty towelette at him and huff when he catches it easily, palm completely engulfing it without even really trying. he's unbearably smug when he continues, whiskers practically twitching with a barely contained grin. "what do you think, munchkin? a pretty necklace? a bracelet?"

unfortunately, he looks perfectly serious. "maybe a ring?"

if emily responds, you don't hear it, too busy side eyeing him, trying to figure out how serious he is. if you get tipped with a tennis necklace next time you watch his kid, you might just drop out of school.

divider by @/cafekitsune

[bluestonewings]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY FIRESTAR!!!

[mobius-m-mobius]

David Tennant as Tony Baddingham in Rivals S01E01

[ewwww-what]

Nobody is as excited about the preview as I am. I have paragraphs.