yknow what…..im thinking about it. (american) gen z grew up surrounded by talk of climate change and actual school shootings where peers and friends literally die at age 11 and that was just like our norm. the economy is shit so we cant buy houses and can barely afford food, our schools were a war zone, and our planet is dying. that was our youth, death at every turn. a lot of gen z (i think i can go global here, not just america) will tell you like “yeah i didn’t ever see myself living past fifteen much less eighteen. i thought i’d be dead by now” and so now we have like no idea wtf we’re doing and we’re just trying to make the best out of our shitty lives.
anyways merlin also kinda grew up like that as in his very existence was a death sentence and if the wrong person found out he’d be dead. growing up hearing from your mother that you cant tell anyone the truth bc what you are, how you were born, is wrong in this world and that many people would cheer to see you die….yeah what if he had the same thought process and was like “yeah fuck guess my death is inevitable” and just stopped giving a fuck. he’s confrontational and picks fights without regard for his opponents strength or numbers bc hey if he goes out this way then at least he was doing something good and standing up for what he believed in, if he doesn’t die then cool he made a difference. that’s why he goes toe to toe with arthur even after finding out he’s the prince of the most powerful kingdom in albion that started the whole campaign calling for his head.
just merlin being kind of like a medieval gen z lmao like taking no shit and taking all these risks bc hey he never thought he’d make it to twenty so wtf else is he meant to do?? live a life of paranoia and wariness? no. he’s gonna die in the end no matter what, if it happens sooner rather than later….well…he never thought he’d make it this far so he did better than he originally expected. this is why he gets on with gwaine so well bc they both have like passive suicidal tendencies where they take all these risks and make all these choices that put their lives at risk bc they don’t particularly care one way or the other how it turns out. real recognizes real.
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I honestly I think I’m in my adult-age HW rn (can’t say abt like the years before when I wasn’t checking my weight but I was like a teen back then), but fuck, it’s 56.4kg today (bmi 21.5) and idk if my metabolism suddenly just stopped bc it feels like it did. I eat abt 1000-1200kcal and the weight moves nowhere (sometimes under 1000kcal, but I try to keep it above to avoid bingeing & muscle loss). It’s sure not that low of a limit, but honestly like that’s no one’s maintenance calories no matter how short & how little they’d move (and I’m 5”4 and try to at least get the 10k steps a day if nothing else). Yeah gotta be patient, been back at this just like 2 weeks after my stupid dumb month of ”i dont care” and sometimes it takes more time.
But it’s weird bc I was recovered for like a year before relapsing this spring, and even then I didn’t gain to this level, and it was a way longer time of eating than just a month and I was steadily 52-54kg the whole time. (I still dont know tho if I can count it as recovery time when I never rly stopped working out or counting my cals; I was just eating my maintenance calories pretty much, some days a little more, and I think I maybe just got into the orthorexia side for a year)
Also I know metabolism gets worse as you age and ppl say it’s around ur mid-20s but does that rly kick in suddenly in one fucking month???? I doubt it (Could be the stress, like I’m waking up to anxiety attacks etc, so it’s not low levels of that rn, and ik stress does a number on you)
Anyways, this is all to say that I’m fucking getting back to it istg like I feel so bad rn in my body. My fucking shorts I’ve worn just this summer aren’t fitting right like dude that’s insane, how did that happen over the course of like a month. No more of this ’’well im too tired to work out today’’ or ’’a liiittle bit of sugar wont kill me’’ garbage; back to all or nothing babeyyy (bad mindset but works the best for me)
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Making a bucket list and pinning it so I can add to it over time as I think of more things:
Take the ice water plunge in Antarctica
Sing o flower of Scotland at Murrayfield
See the northern lights from within the artic circle
Learn to sail on a barque
Go on a multi-thousand dollar shopping spree
Swim with a pod of manta rays
Start a giant kelp farm
Play blackjack in Las Vegas
Write a fantasy novel
Get a scuba diving certification
Learn how to make jewelry
Visit the ruins of Pompeii
Swim with a whale shark
Have a tarantula crawl over my face
Ride a train across the rockies
Salsa dance in Cuba
See a kea in the wild
Learn to play the violin
Climb Ruapehu
Go on an ocean liner through rough seas with waves big enough to go over the bow
Go arctic floating in finland
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31.08.23
I keep thinking about coming back to posting online but every time I finally manage to fight the anxiety and make it back to this page, I draw up blank and end up leaving again...I suppose part of me is incredibly ashamed and embarrassed (about everything that my 'life' is/has been/become) whilst also being utterly exhausted and tired of hearing and saying the same things over and over again. I hate it.
This space was such a positive space for me in recovery in the past, it helped me beyond belief and I met some of the most incredible souls through it. Right now I need everything I can get. Life has been feeling incredibly heavy and hard for longer than I care to admit. I have not been okay (even typing that is hard) and I am finding it hard to see/believe that things can ever get better.
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Hi! Uhhh I started writing a pre-manga pov of Ganondorf a while ago. Basically his bastardization arc from his exile (which the old woman in the desert tells Green about vaguely) to maybe just after Shadow‘s creation? I‘m not sure yet what I‘ll cover. Neither will I probably try to adhere to the disappointingly few hints from the manga, but I somewhat finished the first 1.5 scenes, so I thought I‘d go ahead and post them, see what the response is. Not to brag, but I think it‘s gonna be not too bad (says the person with zero experience in writing). Scenes under the cut!
Possible trigger warnings: mention of death and its glorification, allusions to losing one‘s mind via possession/curse, one curse word??
The night is cold. It always is, in the desert; razor-sharp and gnawing at one‘s bones. The fur-trimmed cloak fluttering around Ganondorf‘s figure doesn‘t do him any good, only a constant thwap! in his ear. In the faint moonlight, he sees the face of one of his oldest friends, her eyes shaded under her helmet. It gives her the expression of an old depiction of the sand goddess in a children’s book, enacting justice upon fairytale villains.
They stand far enough from the town for its nightly torches to be nothing more than a glowing backdrop to her silhouette. Nobody else knows of th exile’s whereabouts. He can only guess what excuse they will tell the civilians.
Wordlessly, she holds out a hand, in it a bag containing: the few rupees he privately saved for emergencies, hunting gear, branches of the sparse local medicinal herbs. He can barely see it in the darkness, has to instinctively reach out a hand for it to fall into. The goddess‘s hand lingers in the air. He likes the thought that it‘s because this last goodbye is just as painful for her.
Her hand finally sinks back to her side where it twitches once, wrestling with itself, then decisively gripping the spear standing out from the sand. Her voice is pressed and grates like smoke on the horizon. „You know this has to be done. It‘s for the best of us all.“
His own words come out no better; he almost thinks it a monstrous, vengeful someone else. It might have been, he will later conclude in a rare lucid moment. „It is not. You lose your king, I lose my name.“
„We have lost many kings; we‘ve managed. As for you…“ He senses it, the ashamed way she averts her eyes under that goddesses-damned helmet. She thinks his uprooting is worth their survival, their standing with Hyrule. „You won‘t. That is the point.“ He grows quiet after this. She‘s right. This is bigger than him and his mortal desires.
„You heard the seer say what would happen otherwise. And it‘s enough of a mercy that they… we don‘t have you executed for the danger you pose. Or drag you into an alley to do it discreetly. Maybe it was too much to expect for you to defy your namesakes, after all.“
Ganondorf watches her speak herself into a self-justifying frenzy absent-mindedly. The seer, yes. The one that had come in after the news of the princess‘s birth had been delivered. Stepped into the destroyed room, hadn‘t she, gingerly avoiding the shards and ashes. Croaked the damning prophecy as if she couldn‘t have done that sooner, right after his conception when his fate was decided. But no, the goddess could only grant one so much power, and only when they wished so; as if the goddess cared about one measly glorified fortune teller and the seal shit she wanted to pay her board and lodging with.
The guard stops mid-breath. Perhaps she knows of the carmine haze slowly settling over the exile‘s eyes, yet again. It doesn‘t matter. She branishes her weapon in demonstration; they both know she will not hesitate to use it. She will merely battle with herself her entire life afterwards. But what is one mind‘s peace in the eyes of the divine?
Ganondorf scoffs and turns away. His footsteps fade away far too late for her comfort.
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The track through his homeland - on the shortest way towards the red cliffs cutting it off from the lush rest of the world - goes by uneventfully. He stops once, staring at the ruins of the Arbiter‘s Grounds. He excuses his behavior with the natural caution one should move with near the territory of a moldera.
It looks exactly the same as it always had. The coliseum still lounges in the sands, surrounded by columns and pathways. It reminds him of a sleeping beast.
He‘s glad he wasn‘t executed here, as his friend said it might‘ve been decided. He would‘ve been dragged into the arena for all to see, before the ancient mirror that had seen another king before him. Presented like a farewell gift before him, the scene feels familiar. It‘s as if he can remember the moonlight at the time, gleaming of the masks of the sages.
Oh, wasn‘t that death but the path to glory!
He keeps walking.
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