#this empty existence

[saraminia]

Life's so fun! 🙃 (Been crying all evening since I came home from work)

[addictt-with-a-pen]

you’ve left my life, but you haven’t left my head, or my heart.

[loganspr1ncess]

[ko-existing]

Saying "anything is possible" is an understatement.

by Being_is_IT / Twitter

Q: Because it is dream-like, anything is possible. So there’s no actual problems, right?

A: Yes, anything or any situation is possible. There is no actual restriction or limit. But it seems to the Mind that there are full of restrictions and limits. Yes, no actual problems, but just like in a dream, there seems to be full of problems. This is the magic that only SELF can appreciate. Saying "anything is possible" is an understatement.

Human language can't describe this magic. It's infinitely more magical than you can ever imagine. It is so magical that it can appear to have no magic. It's so magical that insubstantiality can appear substantial.

It's so magical that space-less and timeless can appear as space and time. It's so magical that absolute perfection can appear as if it is imperfect. That's how magic works. The Mind complains that there is no freedom.

But this is exactly how unconditional freedom appears to be. So, "feeling in bondage" is indeed an illusion projected by the Mind. The Mind complains that everything is hard and solid and there are so many hardships to overcome in life. Although such feelings of hardships may appear to be very obvious, it is an illusion projected by the Mind. This is exactly how the magic functions, illusions always appear very real.

Otherwise, illusion won't be illusion. If you don't get what I am talking about, just remind yourself how real a dream plotline feels until it pops. Through continuous noticing, your innate sensitivity will automatically increase, there will come a moment you will discover this magic while the current plotline seemingly continuing to proceed.

[wigglebox]

Supernatural September - Day 4 | Glitch

Canonically, Dean never said Cas’ name after the fake phone call in 15.19. Canonically, while Bobby said Cas “Helped” revamp Heaven into a Heaven that Dean “deserved,” Cas never showed up. Canonically, Dean left that heaven, which contained his family, to go “find family.”

There is a glitch that is Cas-shaped, and Dean knows it.

[mobius-m-mobius]

Mobius, I know you’re trying to help me, but we should be dealing with the bigger problem here. He Who Remains.

[starry-bi-sky]

It's 10PM.

It's 10PM and Danny is fourteen, standing in the bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror. There are stitches in her side and a vice grip on the sink ledge, her fingers are stained a dried red. She was fixing the stitching. Her back is bruised -- as is many places -- and her throat is sore from a power she didn't know she could use -- until today, that is.

She's fourteen. It's 10PM.

Her family was supposed to die today. They would've, if not for Clockwork and his kindness. She can't get the choking smell of ash and dust and burning gas out of her nose.

Her family should be dead. They're not. They're alive.

So why can't she get the rock out of her stomach, the urge to vomit out of her throat?

Danny didn't save her family. Clockwork did.

She can't get the sound of that other her out of her head. The cold laughter out of her ears. That woman wasn't Danny, and yet she was wearing her face. Both living and dead, she was wearing her face.

She drags a hand through her hair, and then down her face. Her hair is gross. Dirty with grime and oil and sweat, it plasters to her head, it itches the back of her ears, it prickles the nape of her neck.

That other her had long hair like her. Long and flowing and white fire. White hair and blood red eyes. Her face, matured, staring back at her. Danny doesn't know what her name is, she never asked. She's been calling that other her 'Me' in her head.

It's not her, but that Me is a part of her. So it's just as worse.

Danny didn't save her family; Clockwork did. Her hands are shaking, her legs are shivering. There was no control today. Everything felt like a moving train -- fast, unstoppable, speeding down one track and by the time you hit the brakes, it's too late. Someone's already been hit.

Danny Fenton should've begun her downward spiral today. Her downward spiral into villainy. She didn't. Because of Clockwork. Only because of Clockwork.

He was the one that showed her the future. Hew as the one that saved her family. Not Danny.

Jazz says when someone feels like their life is out of control, they tend to make desperate changes to themselves in order to feel like they regain it.

She reaches for the scissors.

They're thin, not meant for hair. For thread. It's from the first aid kit.

She grabs them anyways, and grabs a fistful of hair.

There's no thought behind it, just numbness all over. Numbness, and an icy fear. It doesn't all cut in one fell swoop; she has to saw, just a little bit.

Her eyes never leave the mirror. Blue eyes stare back at her, blue eyes she's been steadily becoming unable to recognize. In the end, she's holding a chunk of her once-long hair in her hands, a thousand-yard stare staring back at her, and with an uneven haircut that tickles her neck.

Her vision stings. Her throat grows thick and ugly. Tears bleed into her eyes. A whine, a wail, swells in the back of her mouth, and pins itself between her tongue and the roof of her mouth.

Mom and Dad sleep, safe in their beds. Jazz is asleep, safe, in her bed.

She drops the hair in her hands and lets it scatter across the floor, she drops the scissors and it clunks clumsily, loudly against the floor. She's half afraid that it'll wake them all up. But no one stirs.

She reaches forward, grips her fingers against the ledge of the mirror, and opens it to reveal the cabinet behind it. Finally, her reflection won't look at her.

Turning numbly to pick up the scattered first aid kit across the floor. There is a grief is lodged between the climbing bars of her ribs, stuck like a pebble in between the grooves of a shoe.

She cleans up the bathroom silently. She wipes the blood off the tile and puts the first aid kit back where it belongs, and gathers up the discarded hair to throw away.

She mourns the whole time, flinging the tears from her lashes with every blink. In the end, she half limps over to the door. Her fingers linger over the light switch.

Bye-bye, Danny, she thinks. She doesn't turn around to look at the mirror.

If that is who Danny becomes, Martha simply won't be her anymore.

She turns the light off, and doesn't look back.

[yellowvixen]

week 30: removing control

[thinwhitedoc]

SHERLOCK | Martin Freeman as John Watson

[dailykeiji]

today’s keiji is: whatever this is

[just-a-lonely-nobody]

These days I just don't feel shit. I don't feel a thing at all, I don't feel like I exist

[mighty-ant]

his swagless looks and cringe fail personality have captivated me

[everyone-is-emptyy]

[loganspr1ncess]

I KNOW THATS FUCKIN RIGHT, HUGH NATION IS UP

[ko-existing]

did the world disappear when you realized yourself? like did you have to rebuild the world entirely from scratch?

False idea—

When you realize "SELF", it's not that the "world" disappears or needs to be rebuilt. "The world" as you once thought you knew it—a separate, external thing—was just an idea within "SELF". "The world" only appears to exists because you are "aware" of it. But when you realize "SELF", you recognize that what you truly are is "SELF" itself, nameless, and that "SELF" doesn’t depend on the world.

What you call "the world" depends on "SELF".

Think of it like this: when you wake up from a dream, you don’t need to rebuild the dream world—the idea that it is Actuality simply vanishes because it was only an idea of the appearing mind. Similarly, when you realize "SELF", you don’t need to rebuild anything.

You simply understand that "the world" arises within "SELF", but "SELF" itself is whole and complete, whether or not the "world" appears within it. Nothing needs fixing because nothing was broken—only misunderstood.

[backjustforberena]

[...] when he walks into Small Council for the first time with the brooch, and he stands at the table in the position that she stood in. The moment’s just for him, and then he goes around to his place as the Hand — so looking for things like that, and trying to understand how that can affect somebody, because this is, of course, his life partner, and he is somewhat untethered without her.