#mamai care

[mamaicare]

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[fictional-magic]

do i know you? (pt. 1)

desi!james potter x oc!female!reader

a/n: I'm gonna make an oc with the name "samaira"(sa-maai-ra), she's indian, bengali and a childhood friend of James. she's been his family friend and her parents are friends with his.If anyone wants to use her, please tag me. tw: mentions of abuse (not to fmc), attempted suicide, angst, angst, angst, oc is a muggle (set after they have graduated)

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"don't talk to me."

this. this is the first sentence you say to the guy you've been thinking about for the past 5 years. the one who stopped you from killing yourself, running away and doing things he knew/you should have known you would regret. all his cries were of no use anymore. you needed him to understand you when you were 5, and this perfectly carved cold demeanor of yours could not, under any chances, crumble beneath a boy man who didn't even bother to tell you he's going to, or running off to london. right now, he's chasing you, trying to hold you, and say all the things he was supposed to centuries ago as you angrily storm, and storm isn't even the right word. there isn't a word in the entire oxford dictionary to explain how distraught and broken you feel. you're fuming, raging, burning inside, walking stomping back to your house because you don't want to meet, see, interact, talk, know him ever again. the beautiful, hidden core of yours dies, and rebirths slowly when you turn around to look at the only reason you're physically alive and wholly dead right now.

the person that stands infront of you now is a man. you met a boy, a lively, full of happiness, sunshine in his pockets kind of little guy who you's meet every day in this small garden your mamai and his amma planted pretty tulips in. the boy used to spend his vacations, days, hours with you, up in your room, as you complained about your baba beating up your sweet, plain mother. the boy who used to listen, tell you it's not your fault, that you both could run away together. and that's so not your problem. your problem, dilemma, call it whatever you want, is he grew up into a beautiful man, who you don't know now. and every inch of your body lights up like atrickling flame down your skin when you think of how desperately you want to know everything about him. you feel it in your face, the utter shame of wanting to know someone who never (if he did, he wouldn't do this) cared about you. and still, you look behind. same curly hair. same chocolate, glistening-in-the-sun, kind of eyes. same freckled nose, same brown, shining skin, and the same pink, thin lips that used to laugh at your failed attempt of helpless jokes. but nothing's the same anymore. he's sad, you're mad, and every single little, huge "shikayat" (complaint) crumbles down onto him with your screams and tears and that physically hurt him. "itne jaldi kyun bhul gaya mujhe tu? main tujhe itna bulati gayi, aur tu aise bina bole bhaag gaya. (why did you forget me so quickly? i kept calling out to you, and ran away without telling me like this.)

tut gayi thi main sale. bikhar ke tukde ho gaye the mere. mamai died, asshole! she died! and you didn't even come to her tehrvi, or barsi or anything! you... " (i was broken you fucker. i was shattered ino pieces. mum died, you asshole! and you didn't even come to her thirteenth day{a ritual in india}, or her yearly death anniversary or anything. you...)

you gulp past the huge lump in your throat, and try again as your tears stain your skin. "you cheater! liar! chale jana tha toh kyun mujhe aise sapne dikha raha tha? i hate you! (if you had to leave, why did you show me all these dreams?)

"i hate you james. you made me this way. tujhe jo pasand tha, ab nafrat karne lagi hun us se. ful acche nahi lagte, baarish acchi nahi lagti, apne muh pe sahi se kajal nahi lagta kyunki tu lagata tha aur.. aur"

(i hate you james. you made me this way. i hate whatever you used to like. i don't like flowers anymore, i don't like the rain anymore, i can't put kohl on my eyes because you did it for me, and, and...) the words, the screams, rather die in your throat as he holds onto you, clutches onto the very last ounce of energy you have left in you as you screamed your entire world to him, and keeps whispering this foul, nonsensical word, "sorry myra. i'm so sorry"

[galatiul-e-un-oras-de-basm]

trebuie să scriu asta aici pentru că blogul ăsta e un jurnal

Nu știu de voi ce faceți de Paști (da, a trecut de mult dar eu abia acum constat că nu am scris despre ce urmează sa zic), că în mare parte din lucrurile cele mai stranii au loc exact in luna Aprilie. În fine, începem așa:

(a) dezamăgirea vieții mele, am mers cu familia la mamaie acasă să petrecem Paștele împreună. Dau să intru în bucătărie și mă izbește un miros divin de pastramă de capră. Bucuroasă dar și proastă în același timp o întreb pe mătușa (care stă cu mamaie) dacă au cumpărat o capră special pentru pastramă și răspunsul a fost nu. Mi-am lipit moaca de geamul cuptorului și am întrebat ferm și răspicat dacă e capra din ogradă. Mătușa a zâmbit larg până la urechi.

(b) pt că mamaie e pe economii, mi-a cerut să mă duc la cimitir ca să pictez numele străbunicilor. Am cumpărat o găleată de vopsea alba, mi-am luat câteva pensule și m-am dus direct la cimitir. Acum, imaginați-vă că e un sat destul de gol, liniștit. Bătea un soare afară de ma topeam pe drum, bătea și vântul, până una alta am ajuns la peticul de pământ. Nu știu dacă ați mai avut ocazia să pictati numele, data nașterii/decesul a rudelor voastre, dar va zic eu aci că vă trezește și vă încearcă un sentiment destul de ciudat. Străbunii sunt îngropați unul lângă altul, nimic fensi, ci doar cruci de fier simple vopsite în negru și la mijloc aveau pe ambele părți (spre interior și exterior) plăcuțe din același material. Baza crucilor era din ciment. Până aici a fost bine, am intrat și am călcat direct pe mormintele lor (cine știe câte înjurături vechi mi-am luat) dar măcar știu că nu a fost cu intenție rea. Am băgat acolo găleata și dă-i tată și scrie numele citeț (să vezi ce crize existențiale aveam că vopseaua aceea se întindea ca cascavalul), aminteste-ti când s-au născut și când au murit și etc. Lăsând faptul că scriam acolo, bă, nu fusese zare de om până când simțurile mele animalice au decis că "ce ar fi să-mi întorc capul?", bă, apăruse o babă așa sha-boom (uite așa era să mor exact între străbuni), s-a materializat ființa aceea și mă întreabă: "a cui ești tu?" Am schimbat două-trei vorbe și mă trezesc că am terminat de scris pe ambele părți. Toate bune și frumoase, am facut o mătanie și m-am cărat de acolo.

[mythriteshah]

A Fashion Tycoon's Missive

A clear sky welcomes the arrival of dawn as the sun rises upon the greater region of Garlemald. The blustery arctic winds of northern Ilsabard are reduced to a mere zephyr, and its surviving denizens prepare to face what challenges may await them.

Within the fringes of Camp Broken Glass, three individuals stood vigil: each garbed in attire suited for the cold, but all bearing the symbol of a mythril blue shield flanked by angelic wings. This was the insignia of the Diamond Sultan's personal retinue of combat-ready maidservants - Lord Thiji's Angels.

Himmeya Twelvefist, Kaori Hanabira, and Swoztu Wuotwyrstwyn stood guard as they laid eyes upon a black-robed figure approaching from the Eblan Rime. The sound of beating wings soon followed, and they would turn their gazes upward to behold a curvaceous Duskwight female, gowned in the likeness of the Creator, trailed by a host of tiny magitek bits. Once within several yalms, the woman touched down upon the frosted earth, striding stately towards the Angels.

"Good Morning, Angels," she began.

"Good Morning, Princess Telphie," the Angels answered. The Magitek Maestra chuckled and waved her hand dismissively.

"Be at ease. I bring grand tidings, which I will explain later. For now, it is time we were off home."

"So soon, Princess?" Himmeya interjected with an arched brow. "Is our tour here finally over, then?" The cloaked figure gave a bow to Telphie before turning toward the three.

"My Ladies, if I may - Mamai's Vigil will be arriving shortly to receive you, during which it will send you all to Radz-at-Han. Our Lord Sultan has deemed our duties here fulfilled," the hooded Au Ra stated.

"With the situation in Garlemald well taken care of, and the newly-established trade agreement with Radz-at-Han, it is safe to say that this nation is well on its way to obtaining autonomy once more," Telphie followed, "and with the Ilsabard Contingent close by, our involvement grows less founded. Though I had served this nation for a time, I am satisfied in the work we have done to help these people build back better. And lest we forget, Miss Youmei and House Kyria has lent us their support as well, granting us a formidable ally in the Near East. She will be joining us in Radz-at-Han as well, further strengthening our bond!"

Swoztu and Kaori heaved sighs of relief as Himmeya gave a triumphant yell, eager to return to her fellow Angels - or perhaps eager to try out the spicy Thavnairian fare.

"I won't miss the cold, but it's small wonder Lord Thiji enjoys it so much," Swoztu commented as they accompanied Telphie back towards camp.

"And what of our hooded friend?" Kaori asked. "Will she not be joining us?"

"I am humbled by your offer, Lady Kaori," the mysterious Au Ra said, her head lowered, "but I must return to my own matters. Unfortunately, that is all I can say for now, but know that you've allies in the shadows..."

Not wont to pry further, Kaori simply gave a shrug and waved farewell to the mysterious individual, and soon they would part with Garlemald at long last...

The following evening, the streets of Radz-at-Han were abuzz, from Alzadaal's Peace to the High Crucible. A joyous occasion had befallen the city, and a grand feast was being held at Mehryde's Meyhane. The place was filled to capacity as the citizenry and visitors alike reveled. At one of the corner tables, a team of Radiants were either splayed across the floor or struggling to remain upright as a trio of Lalafellin women laughed haughtily. This trio was none other than Sesena and her sisters, Sosona and Susuna.

"Goodness, dear sister, what's that put us on now?" spoke Sesena.

"Five! And we're barely getting started! Another round, if you please!" Susuna proudly declared. "And, er, some water for our Radiants!"

At the Guildship Hunt Board posted toward the entrance, Sarielle Emeraude - the Regalia's Chirurgeon - was inspecting the daily and weekly marks in preparation for a hunt. Meriri Meri approached and offered her a drink.

"Lassie Sarielle!" the Plainsfolk chimed. "Ye can worry about the huntin' later! It's a time for celebratin', after all!"

"I know, I know, Miss Meriri," the smaragdine Elezen replied. "I was only passing the time so as to assist where needed - and it appears Miss Sesena and them have already drunk the third team of Radiants under the table. If you'll excuse me."

"Och! They're a bunch o' lightweights anyway!" Meriri retorted, heading back towards her table.

Upon the stage where the traditional Thavnairian dance would be performed were Veeveena and Veeveera, performing their own rendition of the Kriegstanz, but with the power of wind infused in their chakrams. They gave quite the show, captivating the audience with their frenetic movements mixed with wild gesticulations which culminated in a small cyclone that filled the stage. And - just like something one would see out of a magic show - a silhouette emerged from the gust: a slender Viera sporting garb never-before-seen on Etheirys. Accented with a large golden Usekh, this off-the-shoulder dress was form-fitting, with lavender-violet hues, and trailing along the skirt's end were numerous tendril-like appendages which glowed a scintillating blue, and billowed lightly even in the calm winds which blew from the balcony. Her white-blue tresses and face were obscured by a veil of similar color, with numerous tendrils that each ended with a gilded gradient.

She took one, two, three, four paces forward before flipping the veil with just enough force so as to reveal herself: the Regalia's Prime Model, Isja "Coldgaze" Kaltablik. Striding from behind her was another familiar face: the Diamond Sultan in his signature garb. Everyone gasped in awe as those who were privy to the Higuri Regalia's practices knew full well what this entailed.

"Th-That robe...! Mistress Isja...!" spoke a bystander.

"The Diamond Sultan, too...! Could this be...?!" gasped an Arkasodara.

As everyone deliberated in hushed whispers and gathered around the posing Veena, the "V" Twins (Veeveena & Veeveera) escorted their lord and master backstage, though they would be met with some light resistance as eager fashion fans clamored to speak with the merchant-lord himself.

"Just a moment, everyone. Our Lord Sultan will be with you shortly," Veera assured. Once they were out of sight, the two Dunesfolk maidens would greet him with a bow, to which he would give one in return.

"We are grateful that you went out of your way to do this... Prince Horu," Veeveena whispered. The Lalafell garbed in the shimmering icy sherwani was, in fact, not the Diamond Sultan, but his twin brother - whom bore striking similarities to Thiji, but the main distinction being the position of their multicolored orbs.

"It's the least I could do to help keep up appearances, Miss Veeveera," Horu replied with a smile. "This is a monumental occasion for all of Thavnair. The Satrap's sister is returned to us, and no doubt my brother has a lot of thoughts to put to paper as we are now poised to proceed with the next phase."

"If I may be so bold, Prince Horu," Veera interjected, "you truly did not have to do this. We Angels could've definitely held our own in your stead - especially with Princess Telphie among us."

"I understand, Miss Veeveera," Horu began, "but a venerable storm of events has befallen the Near East in recent moons, and needless to say that it has given House Higuri - among others - quite a stir. After seeing everyone being called to action, I was compelled to do so as well. I could not stand idle any longer whilst my brother dearest and our allies were hard at work to maintain stability at home and abroad. And now, on this night of nights, the people of Radz-at-Han will know that Thiji Higuri himself graced the celebratory feast, and gave the fashion faithful the long-awaited premonition of our coming clothing line."

"Spoken like a true leader, My Prince," Veeveera said with a grin. "Then let us not keep them waiting."

They would soon return to the festivities, and the revelry would move on well into the late bells of the night. Meanwhile, within the confines of his chambers was the actual Diamond Sultan, focused on fulfilling his new tradition of pre-release portents.

And, within the waking hours of the following morn, his newest letter would at last be disseminated to the public...

“Honorable friends, associates, and allies of the Regalia,

I  pray that this message finds you all well.  As for myself, it is with great pride that I voice my own tidings of good health. The continual stability of the realm and its regions is once again a testament to the strength and resolve of the countless protectors of Etheirys.

But, as always, this only affirms my statement that the realm continues to maintain its status quo of perennial incursions, supernatural uprisings, and all-around buffoonery.  The Power in Beauty Catalogue continues maintaining its absolute hold of the fashion scene with the release of the Hyogan Gallery, but it is in no small part due to you all who have made this a reality - from our chosen models, to our collaborators, to the spreading of the good fashion word.  It is absolutely astounding that we of the Regalia have provided a means of form and function for citizenry and adventurers alike.  And while I may shower you all with praise for bells on end, the true reason for this missive’s creation is of even greater magnitude than the previous.

Firstly, I have taken an apprentice under my wing. Some of you may know her, and others who do not will surely come to know of her in due time. She is Izayoi T. Keer, a seasoned courier whose eye and passion for haute couture have surpassed her peers. Seeking to better herself in the field of aesthetics, she - with the Sisters' blessing - took it upon herself to serve under me as my Mythrite (or Diamond) Apprentice. With this knowledge, you may all be pleased to know that the time will one day come where the Higuri Regalia will open its own guild or school to train other aspiring fashion designers. With the Sisters' blessing, they may acquire the skills and talent necessary to create their own label. Izayoi may be the first to study under me, but knowing how fate operates in this realm, she will definitely not be the last in search of aesthetic tutelage.

Secondly, it is with a heart once heavied by concern - now relieved of this burden - that I inform you all that - against all odds - our beloved Satrap - Lord Vrtra of the First Brood - has returned home with his sister, Lady Azdaja.

Though many are worthy of gratitude: to Ser Dione Averre (@lizardywizard) and all of White Wings - it has been a most grueling journey, and I know it was taxing for you and yours. I have long hung up my adventuring ways, but that does not stop me from fighting for the home my family and I have moiled to create. But I know that you all were at the forefront of the operation to liberate Lady Azdaja with the other brave souls who dared to brave the darkness of the Void. This mission was successful twofold: first, with the vanquishment of the Archfiends and the malign force which threatened to breach the sanctity of the Source, our peace has been assured as the Voidsent will now encroach in lesser frequency. Second, with Lady Azdaja's ensured survival, this means that half of the First Brood is alive and well alongside Lord Hraesvelgr and Lady Tiamat - though it cost Lord Vrtra one of his eyes to grant his sister a corporeal form.

This means a great deal to not only the Regalia and House Higuri, but to all children of Thavnair. I feel I speak for us all when I say that we owe much to Midgardsormr's progeny for founding and fostering such a unique culture that can now be fully shared with the rest of the realm. Without them, Radz-at-Han would more than likely never have existed. And when I heard the First Brood's cries ringing across the heavens... I shed a most genuine tear of joy knowing that another great wyrm perseveres (though "great" may be a subjective term for some). Not since the establishment of the Regalia's empire have I felt such joy, and now we can show Midgardsormr's daughter the beauty of the land her brother helped create. So, from the bottom of my heart, you have earned a Sultan's gratitude. To you, and the other champions who answered the call: the Higuri Regalia thanks you.

Moving on to less touching matters, the third and perhaps equally important of tidings: the announcement of the Regalia's upcoming line. To those whom recall: one of our previous editions was known as the Blessed Wardrobe, which was made in homage to the Light-infused beings of the First: the Lightwardens. As an antithesis to this - and as a sort of way of remembering all that has transpired - this next clothing line will be dedicated to those Dark-wreathed beings of the Thirteenth shard - the Void. But not just any rank-and-file Voidsent - we will be focusing primarily on the nobility within their hierarchy as established by Eorzean scholars, thus shortening the scope (because let's be real: creating outfits for every conceivable type of Voidsent would see me well past my prime). As a means of providing backstory and inspiration behind this, those who are unaware of Radz-at-Han's nascency should know that the city-state was actually founded atop a void fissure - the selfsame fissure which is now destroyed thanks to a certain Archfiend of Fire. And it is because of this knowledge I will be blending our designs through a unique fusion of Voidal and Near Eastern aesthetic - I believe a better term coined by adventurers is "Gothic". At the time of this letter's dissemination, my latest project is at forty percent completion, and I aim to bring it to light (pun not intended) by the commencement of the EBL's next season.

Lastly, and this may come off as a surprise to some as my business prides itself on generosity: in light of these auspicious events, I have taken the liberty of providing you all with a teaser of what to expect when this clothing line is brought to fruition. Enclosed within is a "sample" photo of one of the many outfits that will be showcased in this upcoming edition to the PiB Catalogue. As previously stated, expect its grand unveiling by the coming of spring - for all, and Etheirys at large, will be reminded why my empire’s credo is ‘Where There is  Power in Beauty.’”

Sincerely,

Thiji Sor Higuri, Diamond Sultan of the Higuri Regalia

[night-tears]

Azi am chef de ea.

Azi, cand ninge afara si imi aduc aminte de ea, si ce insemna asta pentru ea. Azi, cand tot ce imi doresc sa aud este acel: “Te gandesti ca la un moment dat o sa fim la casa noastra si o sa avem un semineu maree langa care sa stam cand ninge?”. Azi, nu m-ar deranja sa il aid pentru a mia oara. Azi, simt iar acea bucurie in suflet de parca as da fuga la ea in orice moment. Azi am chef sa fug la ea. Am chef de strada acea de langa blocul meu unde avea casa, unde ne jucam cu bulgarii de zapada. Azi vreau sa o vad, sa o strang in brate si sa ii spun ca mi-a fost dor. Azi, vreau sa ascult melodiile acelea rock care ma innebuneau mereu. Azi, am chef sa stau sa cu ea si sa o ascult cum imi poveste despre Harry Potter si de cum are un crush pe el. Azi am chef de barfa, de jocuri, de strans in brate, de amintiri, de problemele acelea la mate care nu aveau niciun sens. Azi am chef sa stau sa ii spun cat de dor de cum era. Totusi, azi nu este ziua perfecta sa imi aduc aminte de toate ceea ce s-a intamplat. Inainte sa nu apuc sa imi iau adio de la ea. Azi nu o mai vreau trista, cu lacrimile pe umarul meu. Azi, vreau sa ma sune si sa imi povesteasca despre inca o idee conspiratioanala tampita. Azi, vreau sa o vad razand, razand cu adevarat. Azi, vreau sa simt din nou vantul de pe deal batandu-ne in fata, in timp ce devoram un burger. Sa stea langa mine si sa ma intrebe cand am crescut asa. Azi vreau sa o astept sa ajunga in fata scolii cu o cutie de bomboane in mana. Azi as fi asteptat-o la iesirea din casa cu masina, ar fi facut misto de mine ca ma dau mare si mi-ar pune iar o melodie pe care o detest. Azi as da melodia aia mai tare si as canta-o cu ea. Azi as duce-o la ski, m-as ruga de ea sa aiba incredere in mine si s-a pune in fund incepand sa planga de frica. Am intra pe poarta ei ude leoarca, as privi-o cum scoate cheia de sib ghiveci si ar spune: “Siguranta si incredere”. Usa s-ar deschide si totul ar mirosi a mancarea ei preferata. Mama ei ar sta in bucatarie, ochii ei neincercanti si-ar lua copilul in brate cu un zambet enorm pe fata. Tatal ei s-a lua de noi ca racim si ar face o gluma porcoasa despre cum ne-am udat. Imi e dor de glumele alea. Am urca la sa in camera si mi-ar povesti din nou despre nu stiu ce carte, s-ar pune pe burta in pat si mi-ar rasfoi toate paginile incercand sa ma convinga sa o citesc. As incerca sa imi aprind o tigara si mi-ar scoate ochii despre cum nu este bine sa fumezi. Am veni la mine unde bunica mea ar ranji si ar intreba-o de vrun baiat de la facultate. S-ar inrosi si ar manca cu pofta din pufuleti. “Mamaie, sunt fata mare!” ar spune la final. Am iesi in oras, mana-n mana, si mi-ar povesti despre o intamplare din copilarie de care eu am uitat. Ar privi spre cer cu stralucire in ochi si ar zambi usor. Am fi din nou copii aia din liceu care radeau cand vedeau un tip dragut pe strada. Am iesi in curte si am vana stele cazatoare ca sa ne punem dorinte. “Data viitoare o sa imi doresc sa iau restanta!” ar spune. “Data viitoare o sa imi doresc sa iau bacul!” as raspunde eu. S-ar uita urat la mine si ar spune cu o voce de adult impersonat ca daca l-a luat ea, sigur am sa il iau si eu. Dar nu l-a luat, nu a avit rabdare sa fie azi aici langa toti cei care ii simt lipsa cumplit. Azi ma duc spre cimitir si imi pun pe buze acelas ruj usor mov. Asa o simt cu mine. Ii pun un trandafir alb pe marmura rece, si ii povestesc despre tipu asta nou din viata mea. Probabil m-ar sfatui sa nu il sperii si pe el asa cum am tentinda. Stiu bine ca intr-o zi, eu voi fi cea care va cobori din tren si ea va fi acolo cu un trandafir alb, intr-o zi dupa o viata lunga. I-am promis ca voi face tot ce ne propusesem vreodata sa facem impreuna. Vreau sa am multe sa ii povestesc atunci cand ii voi auzi din nou vocea. Doar ca ea va fi cea tanara, alba si nespus de frumoasa. Azi, stau cu poza cu cele doua copilite cu ochii deschisi ce radeau la piscina. Noi radeam, ochii ne radeau, toata poza pare ca rade. Azi am chef sa o iau in brate si sa nu ii mai dau drumul niciodata. Azi o vreau fericita. Azi, imi e dor de ea.

[bartholomaus]

A fi acuzat că ești anti-UE pentru că urăști liderii politici europeni e ca și cum ai fi acuzat că ești anti-român pentru că nu-ți place de Ciolacu sau de Iohannis. A fi acuzat că ești anti-Ucraina doar pentru că voiai să-și negocieze neutralitatea militară înainte de război și pierderea de teritorii este maximum de retard care se poate fără să pierzi drepturi în societate. De fapt n-ar trebui să ai drept de vot sau permis de conducere dacă gândești atât de puțin. Ăia cu cânepa sfântă ai lui Georgescu sunt mici copii pe lângă ce foci trepanate umblă prin tabăra așa-zis pro-europeană. Că de fapt nu-i pro-europeană deloc. Urăște cetățenii europeni și drepturile acestora. Detestă spiritualitatea, trăirea și independența europeană. Iubește doar elita politică și financiară europeană, ceea ce e o mare diferență. Cam ca diferența între liber cugetător și secretar de partid. Eu nu știu de ce se mai miră desenele astea animate că sângerează procente electorale și toate mișcările politice cu care se asociază sunt otrăvite încet, dar sigur. Sunt curios dacă mentalitatea asta ”toată lumea e bolnavă, numai eu sunt sănătos” va mai rezista încă un ciclu electoral sau cade sub prag, acolo unde se adună natural toate gunoaiele. -- Nici nu și-a anunțat bine candidatura și s-au găsit deja legăturile rusești ale lui Nicușor Dan. Presa de unitate scrie despre afaceriști ruși, legături conspirative chestii socoteli. Bă, dar mai e vreunul care să nu fie putinist pe lumea asta? S-a umplut de legături rusești peste tot. Mamaie, cât dai legătura? Țara asta a ajuns 70% rusofili, iar restul televiziuni și useriste. Plm... trebuie să renunț la putinism, că nu mai e cool dacă a intrat în mainstream și toată lumea e putinistă. Îmi plăcea când eram de nișă, mai exclusivist așa, dar acum toți prostanii s-au luat după trend. E ca la hipsteri. Primul an vezi unul doi, iar anul următor e plină cafeneaua de putiniști îmbrăcați la fel care discută despre colecția lor de muzica sovietică pe vinil. În locul lui Nicușor ieșeam cu ushanka pe cap la interviuri: Zdrastvuite, drăgoi zriteli! Ia ni panimaiu pacimu vreți apă caldă! Putin scazal că nu vă trebuie. Șto etă problema? Nu mă omor după Nicușor, dar dacă și ăla e agent putinist, Rusia e pierdută, să moară viața mea. O invadăm călare pe biciclete și o cucerim cu măturile. Până la urmă Vladimir Putin se dovedește cel mai dezamăgitor lider din 2024. Dacă Nicușor Dan și Călin Georgescu sunt tot ce a putut, FSB e praf și trebuie trimis la adunat fluturi prin SIberia. O stea din cinci. Unsubscribe!

[somethought2]

Conflict între generații

Ipotetic vorbind... Generațiile astea tinere, niște trântori ai societății lipsiți de respect și bun simț. Niște suflete fără viitor, incapabili de supraviețuire. Textul clasic în fiecare întâlnire de "oameni mari și educați". Hai să analizăm. Educația provine din cei 7 ani de acasă. Dacă aceștia ne lipsesc, care este cauza?Știu...Părinții nu ne-au educat cum trebuie! Dar părinții de unde au primit educație? Cerc vicios. Acțiune și reactiune. Frustrarea resimțită în atmosferă se evopară în plimbarea zilnică cu STB-ul (da, STB nu RATB) de la prima oră a dimineții. Înțeleg ca se merge la doctori, dar în fiecare zi? Pastilele se dau câte una pe zi mai nou? Calmantul cel mai eficient? Ceartă un tânăr pentru comportamentul lui impertinent! Cum să își permită să stea jos, să vorbească la telefon, să mănânce în autobuz sau doamne ferește, să respire lângă ei?! Eu zic să îi legați de o trăsură și să îi plimbați atârnați prin tot orașul pentru asemenea comportament! Noi știm doar să butonăm un telefon, dar când nu știți să descărcați aplicația de la LIDL, veniți la noi "să vă ajutam". Adaptare la prezent. Voi ați mers la școală, dar "î" a plecat din mijlocul cuvintelor odată cu Partidul Comunist Român. "Care" și "pe care" au devenit elemente de finețe în posesia cărora intră doar aristocrații. Voi la vremea voastră ați muncit pământurile, dar cine ne-a vândut țara străinilor? Să nu mai menționez faptul ca remunerația în urma muncii asidue pe care ați depus-o o viață întreaga, stă tot pe umerii nostrii. Du-te la muncă să poartă crește fondul CAS, stâlpul pensiilor românești.

Soluția la problema asta e simpla: "Dacă trăia tovarășul Ceaușescu....". Păi, mamaie, nu tot voi l-ați omorât? Noi, generația asta prăpădită, nu eram nici în plan pe vremea aia. Dar tind să cred ca Ceaușescu va dăinui pe veci în sufletul fiecărei român... în special cei trecuti de 40 ani! 🤭

-Sfârșit-

[dianapopescu]

25 martie: Ziua Internațională a Copilului Nenăscut

Ziua Internațională a Copilului Nenăscut este comemorată anual pe 25 martie. Copiilor nenăscuți li se neagă frecvent aceleași drepturi ca și celor născuți, întrucât valoarea lor percepută și dreptul lor la viață sunt legate de voință și dorințele mamai care poartă copilul în pântecul sau. https://www.diane.ro/2023/03/25-martie-zi-internationala-copil-nenascut.html

[briannabrackens]

♣️

her face only seemed to crumple more as he noted the way she appeared to be pale; it were as though her face caved in on itself as she let out a low exhale, appearing as though she were ready to combust. perhaps that would be best; for the ground to open up and swallow her into the depths below - at least that way she would not feel her heart pounding each time someone approached or, or said her name; she would not feel like she needed to look behind her shoulder, or like she was being watched.

brianna bracken was not a paranoid person - if anything, she were not observant and careful enough; now it hit her, it hit her like a tidal wave. "if i see her, i'll ask her." gods knew she was not going to actively put herself around any westerlanders; let alone the lefford family who were related to the king. her mind thought of amerie briefly, and she thanked the gods that of all their visits, it was always the lady banefort coming to stone hedge, rather than other way around.

"it's called bein' sick." brianna spoke, her tone characteristically defensive as she quietly wrapped her arms around clover, who remained seated upon her lap. he was always such a good boy, able to tell when she needed a quiet cuddle; and in this moment, it felt like clover was the shield between herself and her brother's ability to see right through her. "i caught a chill and lost my shawl the night of the ball…i had it on when i stepped onto the balcony, but it must've slipped off durin' the dancing." brianna gave a false little sniffle, bringing her hand to rub the back of her nose. what a performance.

"i seen a maester, he just be tellin' me to drink somethin' warm and be mindful of my coughing." brianna was not even coughing, why did she add that detail? now she would need to ensure she was coughing. "i've also…uh…" she trailed off slightly. no, she would speak to him about that after. the next conversation however seemed like a glimmer, an open window; how rare it was that ronan would sit and have a conversation with her about the implications of their mother's sickness.

they had always buried themselves in the present, taking it day by day; how she always had questions, but felt as though she did not wish to bring misfortune upon them by speaking it into existence.

"exactly. mamai needs me, so that's the end of the conversation. i don't wanna be involved. there's two of us; you can secure us a deal by getting a good marriage. i'll mind my business whilst you and yer wife play happy families, she won't even need to take care of mummy because i'll be there to do it." her voice sounded insistent, stubborn; she would make camp, live, and die on this hill. whilst she knew her brother simply wanted her to be able to live a life of her own, brianna was content with her mother being her life. she wanted to know she had done everything she could, to the very end.

"there be no point in lookin' for me, when you ain't married. it ain't me continuin' the line. focus on yerself, then you can nag my ear off."

ᕯ

"what's wrong wit yer face?" ronan asked, his voice blunt in the way discussion between brother and sister always was. "yer lookin' pale."

there was something strange in the air that was between them, as though he could sense the shifting nature and the uneasy waves that were in his direction; as she bent forward onto her knees to scoop her beloved into her arms, floofy wagging tail and all, ronan's dark gaze flickered up from the papers he was overlooking back in the direction of his sister.

"nah, i'll be tellin' leo lefford, and leo lefford alone. gods know it ain't my drama to be wrapped up in, how he deals with his people." ronan spoke, noting the way in which their gaze met; she was sussing out whether he noticed anything, and he pretended as though he did not, once again shuffling through his drawers. acting as though he could not find what exactly he knew he needed. "but it puts us in the position of good standing with a noble family of the west; no doubt one of us should be following in the direction of the king. marrying a westerlander."

and yet still, his features looked up at hers once again when she mentioned the lady lefford; she had spoken to the lady lefford too?

"i reckon calla would have no issue in answerin' you on that one. may ask questions as to why, though." women spoke to one another, such was the reality of their lives - socialising, coming together each time the realms all met. moving around the room as they spoke, which was so utterly casual to them; for now he were actually trying to find the spare seal he always kept. what box had he locked it in?

the mention of their mother had spurred the increased movement by ronan bracken, who truthfully, struggled greatly to speak on such a topic; still deep in the folds of denial, he had not yet come to accept the fact his mother would not be able to pick him out in a room. he did not know how to grieve someone who still lived, breathed and laughed - who could still be seen from the window of his study, though he always looked away when instinct caused her gaze to flicker upward.

and in his pain, in his denial of it all and taking early leadership of the household, he had not noticed brianna's own youth slip through her fingers in taking on the role of being their mother's carer. a slight sigh came from deep within his chest, knowing that it was time brianna began to contemplate about her own future. focusing on the future of their family, rather than drowning in the past - that was his job. making up for what choices had been made.

"...mamai will always need you." ronan spoke, the unease clear in his voice; speaking on such a topic was murky waters for him, something he never delved into - at least, his feelings on the matter. his grief. "and there won't be a time where mamai won't need you. but what of yer life?" he asked, a sense of guilt creeping over him in the pit of his stomach at his words. it were not as though he were trying to separate them, but he knew it would up to him to find a woman willing to care of the entirety of the household. that included his mother - there would be no discussion on that front.

and it was up to brianna to remember she had a life and duties of her own. "yer five and twenty now, and it'll be in riverrun you'll be able to meet suitors. i do not wish to look for ya, but yer'll leave me no choice should you remain secluded at home. most would beg for the opportunity to be involved in such things, bri."

[yna-iah12]

"Comfort in Paradise"

On the 13th day of October, we interviewed the caregiver of Kevin, named Grace, a 5-year-old boy who is left alone by his mom, who is working abroad. Since then, Grace has been the one who has taken care of him since he was a toddler. Upon asking about Kevin's physical development, Grace said, "Dili klaro saiyaha na 5 years old pa lang sya, kay dako og bug at sya na bata. Abi nila og grade 6 na, kinder paman ni." Upon relating to our lifespan development topic, we realized that not all the boys and girls have the same growth. One of the reasons why Kevin is healthy as a child is because, according to grace, Kevin has a normal sleep pattern that corresponds correctly according to his age. At his age, we noticed that he knows how to act whenever there's a visitor or other people he doesn't know; he became "shy.". 

Ate Grace enrolled him in preschool. "Sugod sa klase dili siya hilig mag sulat, pero paborito niya ang drawing. Kaya niya mahurot ang Isa ka pad na papel mag drawing lang, hawd siya oy!" He is also a friendly and happy kid, according to Ate Grace. While the female organisms typically love to draw, write, and read. Kevin then proves that it's not about the gender that predetermined our capacity to do something. 

As an interviewer, we also monitored the emotional development of the kid. "Dile sya bingit na pagka bata, biskan ibilin sya sa room." There are some of the kids in their preschool who cry whenever their caregivers are out of sight. Kevin is different, though Grace still looks for him in case of trouble. One time, Kevin almost picked a fight with his classmates. "Pag awayon ka, balusi dayon," said Ate Grace. This kind of reinforcement is often effective, but a lot of possible negative outcomes might cause a bigger dilemma, especially on the kids behaviors later in life.

As a caregiver/parent, it is indeed difficult to raise a child, and although we raised them properly, there are still things that are out of our control. "Usahay musibat pag tawagon. Kailangan pa hadlok-hadlokon para maminaw.".

However, with those struggles and "Labad sa ulo" at the end of the day, kids are still able to recognize their wrongs and know how to appreciate their caregiver's effort. "Pag gabie, malipay napud ko mag ingon sya ug I Love You Mamay.".

In conclusion, we all know that having parents is important in a child's life. Being involved in your child's development from infancy is a big role. However, in Kevin's case, he did not feel the presence of his own biological parents; instead, his "mamay" fulfilled his parent's duty. That way, he did not feel neglected but still hoped for his mom's presence. "Mamay, kanus-a mag uli si mama?" That question is kind of heavy, but Grace manages to answer it smoothly.

[officialromaniantranslatiuni]

[officialromaniantranslatiuni]

ma simt prost acum ca am trecut de la "nu ies din casa" la "ies numai la chestii elitiste cu nume fancy care suna ca dracu in cultura lor nativa"

anyway... in cartier la mamaie era La Țiganca si inainte sa aflu ca proprietara numise asa magazinul, am certat-o pe mamaie pentru ca era putin rasista

Hai să facem o lista cu denumiri amuzante sau mai deosebite din orasele voastre; uitatz aici câteva din Galatz:

La cățeaua leșinată (gen e o cofetarie din spatele unui bloc);

La scânduri multe (fost bar de pe vremea lui Ceau', actualmente un magazin "Pret fix");

Și Ultimul Leu (la inelul de Rocadă);

Aștept și de la voi va pup

[senadimell]

.

[lareinecersei]

90% din chestiile de pe tiktok-ul romanesc sunt stupide, dar unde in alta parte am sa gasesc content de genul " POV: esti mamaie si o alta baba se da la preot" sau "presiunea sociala imensa pe care o simti atunci cand duci cel mai mare colac pentru pomana". Video-ul cu "fanficuri de pe wattpad scrise ca niste compuneri de clasa a 3-a" a fost un reset pentru standardele mele pentru comedie.

[jerichotrivantes]

Time is Priceless

"...Lately I've Been Hearing This Sound Everywhere I Go. Like A Tick, Tick, Tick."

- Jonathan Larson, (Tick, Tick, Boom! 2021)

It was October 31, 2004, Autumn, and Halloween. At exactly 10:11 AM, my life had officially begun. To my parents, it was a beautiful and momentous occasion, but for me? With the perspective I have now with life, my life, it felt like the beginning of a video game where my life could end at any second, the difference is, in a video game you get to restart.

I was born in Cebu, Philippines, at Chong Hua Hospital Mandaue. My mother’s name is Loewimer Jabilles Mandi, and my father’s name is Frederick Etang Mandi. I was born with bronchopneumonia, a form of pneumonia that affects both the alveoli in the lungs and the bronchi. This condition is the most common type of pneumonia in children and the leading cause of death from infection in children aged under 5 years of age, gladly, I’m alive. I’ve lived in Cebu for only 3 years, and that was when I was born, the next two years where my mama and papa would go abroad to migrate, and I was left in Cebu. Papa went to Dubai, UAE, while Mama went to Doha, Qatar. I was left with my beloved grandmother, who passed away back in May 2016, Mercedita Guanzon Jabilles. I call her Mamay Mercy, Mamay short for mama mixed with nay for the elders, and Mercy short for her name. She took care of me for as long as I knew her, she never took her eye off me.

After 3 years in Cebu, Mamay and I moved to Qatar when I was 4, so, you can’t blame me for not having that many memories of my hometown, yet, I long to go back to where I was born. I live and grew up in Doha, Qatar. After moving here with Mamay, Mama and Papa greeted us. Life didn’t start out too easy for me when we moved here. We were poor, yet, striving. After a year, Papa left and went back to Dubai to live there, away from us. Fortunately, the rest of my relatives followed along here, and the Jabilles family comforted us and made living here less scary.

At ages 5-7 I grew up being a hyperactive kid, especially at church, being clumsy, yet, sweet to mama and mamay when it came to gifts and thoughtful things. I went straight to Grade 1 and never graduated Preparatory, honestly, I don’t know why either. I went to Philippine International School Qatar, where I would spend my elementary to junior high school years.

At ages 7-10, I was a high-tempered kid, I would always get myself in trouble for fighting or making a mess at school. I was easily angered by teasing and I would tease back which would also get them to fight back at me. “Away-bata” is what people would call it. During these years as a child, I never fully wondered or questioned the adult situations, just the regular child questions like; where’s papa? Why is papa not with us? Why do my friends have so many toys and I only a few? Why can’t papa be here with us on a family day?

As a kid, we’re never allowed to be part of an adult or serious conversations, we’re just left to be clueless until we’re old enough to comprehend it, but, for me? I listen, I observe, I understand, well at least I try to understand because as a child, I was so confused and frustrated.

At age 10, a new blessing and responsibility came into my life, a new factor that contributed to who I am today; My little sister, Gillian Jabilles Mandi. When she was born, I felt like I had someone new to protect, and I had a reason to be a good role model. When I was 10, I was bullied a lot for my weight and my looks. Other kids said I wouldn’t get a girlfriend even if I tried. Coming home to my baby sister helped, but that didn’t stop my rebellious phase to begin.

At ages 11-12, puberty came, yes, blunt, I know, but it’s true. When this came, I started to make changes to my body and make myself look “better”. Because of the constant bullying, I refused to be bullied and became the bully. Until now, I’m still not proud of it. Months later, Mamay was taken to the hospital and later diagnosed with Cervical Cancer. A year later she died and we went back to the Philippines to drop her off and conduct a funeral. It’s funny, after years as a child away from my hometown, Mamay and I went to Qatar together, but I went back with her gone.

At age 13, I lived my life moody, complicated, frustrated, and rebellious. After Mamay died, it was just the three of us now; me, my sister, and mama. Mama took it hard, raising two kids without her mother, responsibility came on both of us after the grieving period. I spent my intermediate days in school depressed but gladly, I had friends.

At age 13, Grade 7, the first year of junior high school. Grief was over, the process of moving on was nearly done, my pre-teen years are nearly over, and my teenage years were upon me. I met incredible people, I had the most fun and my first ever heartbreak. I was over the bullying and my maturity began. I made amazing friends and a new family of my own. My confidence soared for some reason, and I just enjoyed my time.

At age 14, grade 8, the second year of junior high school. Where drama began, friends begin to fall apart, hard decisions were made, and my perspective of friendship shifted. In grade 8, I had too much drama with women and my friends, fights were happening, and I had to make heavy decisions. In grade 8, my spark for acting began due to the Florante at Laura play for our Filipino subject, I played Adolfo and had amazing feedback from the crowd.

At age 15, grade 9, the third year of junior high school. Where the last year of feeling like a teenager was and the little moments were taken for granted. Grade 9 to me, was my peak of teenage maturity and fun. It was where my longest relationship was, my proper confidence, my time of being accepted by the crowd and by my peers, myself. In December, I went to Europe on a vacation and entered the 2020 New Year there, it was the best. We went across countries. When I got back to Qatar, another event showed up, it was my Grandparents’ (father’s side) 50th wedding anniversary. I was invited, but mama didn’t come. So, after a week back home, I went to the Philippines for the first time in 4 years, the last visit was sad, but this? This was amazing.

It was my first time going to a place alone and riding a plane alone, I was nervous and afraid, but fortunately, I made it and I wasn’t lost. As I made it to the Philippines, my grandfather picked me up and greeted me with open arms. The last time I saw them was back in 2016 at Mamay’s funeral. When I made it to the house, I saw every relative there, my cousins, my aunts and uncles, and my grandma who I dearly love and hugged. Her embrace reminded me of Mamay and I was so glad to see her. My cousins were the best, when we met for the first time, we instantly connected and bonded right away, I was like their long-lost sibling. They made my visit worthwhile.

During my stay there, arguments were constant with my girlfriend, when I got back home we broke up. Just as I thought that my life was better now, my toxicity began. I betrayed a friend, broke, and abused myself, but one thing came out good, and that was the Willy Wonka Musical hosted by the school and directed by my favorite and beloved English teacher, Ms. Jean. I auditioned for it and got the part of Willy Wonka. I thought this would be a good start to becoming healthy, but it only made it worst, as I met someone to fool around with, who at first, I thought was good for me.

At age 15, 2020, the lockdown began. My mental health began to deteriorate, my teenage years began to fall apart, relationships come and go, my mom had lost her job, my friends were away from me, and I’m alone with my thoughts every night. During the lockdown, I began to gain weight, and anxiety and panic attacks were happening often. We had to move twice within 3 months, it was tiring knowing that my life was just a dump now. I felt used and abused by myself. My life was at its worst after a long time.

But, after a time of coping and grieving with a broken heart, I opened myself up to my friends and to music. I’ve always made songs before, but I never really showed them to the public. I began to write songs to release my emotions about situations that were happening. Soon, people noticed and started listening, right after all that, I started to get gigs, and views, music comforted me and made me better.

On October 31, 2020, I had just turned 16, my life felt better. With my friends and family around me, my life felt renewed and matured from the experiences that happened. Once I entered 2021, I’m someone new.

At age 16, 2021, I began to let go of my music career, because I only wrote and showed people for fun and pleasure. This didn’t bother me because I was a better version of myself, I have a wonderful and amazing girlfriend who I love dearly and who cares for me genuinely. Although in April 2021, Mama and I were infected with the COVID-19 virus, it was a tough and painful battle. Luckily, we survived but my lungs weren’t the same anymore. I’m asthmatic, so, COVID wrecked my lungs. But, as a music lover, I still manage to sing my heart out.

At age 17, 2021. My birthday was never the same as it used to be last 2020, I now feel different, I feel responsible, I don’t feel like a teenager, I feel like my life needs to have purpose and meaning, I feel like I’m rushed to make a difference, I feel the need to help my mom financially after losing her job many times, I don’t feel like a kid anymore, and I feel offended when people insist that I still am or treat me like one. They don’t feel what I feel, they didn’t see what I had to go through, and words cannot elaborate on my life within one single autobiography.

Now, I’m hoping to feel like a child once again. I’m wishing to have less stress in my life, I’m wishing to have fewer mental issues or burdens. I just want to live my life without a ticking sound at the back of my head. I will fight, I will live, I will find my way to my sanctuary.