#time does not exist

[eamour]

what are you waiting for ?

i want to ask you something and i need you to take a moment to let the question sink in. what are you waiting for? what are you waiting for before you finally decide to manifest your desires? what is it that keeps you from embodying your desired state of mind? i‘ll rephrase my question: who is stopping you from achieving your goals? i‘m pretty sure you know the answer. it’s you. it’s you, it has been you and will only ever continue to be you. i know, for people who recently got into the law of assumption this may sound like an eye-opening or life-changing epiphany, but i‘m also addressing those who have known about the law but had trouble applying it or remaining consistent with their focus since.

see, when you get the essence of manifesting, you eventually get to the point where you understand that you have not only manifested your entire past, but continue to do so as you live and experience life. you never really stop manifesting as you never stop being. that sounds pretty refreshing if you ask me, because it implies that you could change your state of being at any given time. and that’s what i dearly want to remind you of. that you can change — whenever you want — and don’t have to wait for anything else to fall in place for you.

there is no perfect timing, …

now, "the perfect timing" does not exist. you do not only manifest your desires when you feel the best (you in fact always manifest in any mood and not whenever you feel happy) or only after you have done a meditation or only once you have sacrificed 2 hours of your life affirming. you know what this type of thinking is called? conditioning. you are unnecessarily conditioning your desires, thinking you will only ever be able to materialize them once a certain thing happens or once a specific thing occurs. doesn’t that sound tiring? and the worst part about this is, you are only postponing your desire by doing so, creating an even bigger distance between you and your desire. therefore, it’s not only tiring but unfounded as well. no one is telling you to wait to manifest your desire, but you.

time does not exist when manifesting. just to let you know. you can fully relax, knowing that you are not only in control of space but also time. you are doing just fine. and no one is expecting you to get everything you want either. no one is bashing you for not being able to get your manifestations right away, simply because you can. you are doing your best and that is enough. and that is what i always like to keep in mind: in manifesting, the most important thing you need to do is to be kind and gentle with yourself.

… there is only time.

all you have is time and what you choose to do with it. there‘s only you, your consciousness in a human body, made out of blood and flesh, that can be changed at any given time, just like your circumstances and your entire environment that surrounds you. so, whenever you feel ready to try again, you should do that. don’t be too harsh to yourself. your "failures" do not determine your life, nor does the so called "wasted amount of time" (which does not exist ffs). it doesn’t matter how many times you have to "restart your journey" or completely "revamp your mindset" in order to be in your wished state and embody the thoughts you desire to have. it‘s your life and your’s only. why not make it the best it can possibly be?

with love, ella.

[tribius-art]

random one-year-old doodles i found in folder with thought that they are recent 🥲🙌

[moldhoney]

in like 2018 I saw julien baker two days in a row I miss this

[the-ephemeral-ethereal]

Suffering is one very long moment. We cannot divide it by seasons. We can only record its moods, and chronicle their return. With us time itself does not progress. It revolves. It seems to circle round one centre of pain.

from De Profundis by Oscar Wilde 

[rhyolight]

Hello 💥💥

Hello

[oreolesbian]

ten….ten……..ten years 😵‍💫🫠 i’m gonna throw up wtf do you mean ten years

[inkskinned]

okay is she being actually immature or is it just a woman over 30 expressing a human experience you find to be immature.

like yeah. at certain ages... let shit go. im not defending the real immature shit. im not defending the karen you're picturing. i worked in retail i hate those people too. (once somebody got mad at me because she didn't like how our winter window decor was a snowman smoking a pipe. i wish i was joking).

but men at 57 will write books about how 17 year old girls are soooo sexy. they will invent worlds where women have to be naked for "armor reasons." they will write songs that treat women as objects. people rush to defend them. meanwhile a woman at 35 will be like "heartbreak is hard, actually" or "i feel betrayed by a friend" or "i am struggling with something emotionally." immediately people will say stuff like this woman is 35 by the way. by the way this woman is SO OLD to be experiencing this. BY THE WAY.

im 31, almost 32. the other day a poet was blasted online because at her "big age", she had written a poem about feeling unloved. top comment was "this woman is 29 by the way." this woman is too old to still be useful, by the way. she has to behave better . maybe if she was a good wife and mother she could stop existing loudly, and the story could continue on without her. this woman has served her purpose, by the way. she's so cringe, by the way. at 29 - so old! - she still hasn't figured out that her existence should be one of shame.

[egophiliac]

buckle up lads we're going BACK INTO THE BOOK

[helenadamidou]

[deadnightrun]

Tim Drake subtly doing the macarena disguised as stretching in the middle of briefings or meetings and waiting to see how long people will notice.

Stretches his hands out, a minute later put his hands on his hips, a few minutes later he rests his hands over his head then a few minutes later puts his hands on his hips to stretch his legs out side to side.

Jason is the only one who notices. He hates it. Steph started it and is actively trying not to bust out in laughter. Bruce thinks Tim needs a chiropractor.

[bet-on-me-13]

Danny commits to the Bit a bit too hard...

So! For the first few weeks after his accident, whenever Danny would try to help the people of Amity Park, he would be treated as a Villain.

No matter if he had just defeated the Big Bad of the Week or saved a Cat from a tree, everybody in town only saw him as a Monster or Villain to he feared and hunted down. Danny was really getting sick of trying to get them on his side, until Sam made a suggestion.

"Why not just...play into it?" She said, barely looking up from painting her nails.

It was just an offhand suggestion, but it stuck with Danny. Why shouldn't he lean into it? The people of Amity Park already saw Ghosts as Evil, and they already assumed he was in cahoots with the Ghosts attacking the town. Why shouldn't he just...play into it?

So he does just that.

From that day on, whenever Phantom was spotted he would dramatically monologue about his Evil Plans, or claim that another Rogues attack on the City was his own act of terror.

Box Ghost destroys the towns Warehouses? It was on his orders.

Ember mind controls masses of Teenagers? All part of his Plans somehow.

Every Adult in Town is kidnapped by Young Blood? Danny gave them over to a friend as a Gift.

He crafts an identity for himself as the most Vile and Horrible Ghost that has ever attacked the City, using his own infamy to cement his legend even more firmly. The town only sees a Monsterous Villain, who has eveded capture near effortlessly for months on end, who constantly attacks their City and gets away with it.

Of course he still needs an excuse for how his plans keep getting stopped, and he gets it when his girlfriend Valerie becomes the Red Huntress. Before that, he just claimed infighting or the Fentons getting lucky, but Valerie becoming the Town's Hero meant he had a plausible excuse for how he kept getting "Foiled".

Val was suspicious, because she was not as involved as Phantom painted her to be, but in the end she had no proof of him faking his defeats. And she couldn't come up with any explanations for why he would do that in the first place. I mean, who would fake being a Supervillain? It had to he something else.

This did come back to bite him a while later, when the Justice League decided that enough was enough, and dispatched Justice League Dark to recruit Red Huntress and help Deal with him.

Coincidentally, that was the same day Pariah Dark attacked the Mortal Realm and sucked Amity Park into the Ghost Zone.

And honestly? Danny had spent over a Year proclaiming himself as a Villain who commanded Ghosts to attack the Human Realm, and he had heard about the Right of Conquest being Absolute in the Ghost Zone, so why not make it official? Why not overthrow the Ghost King, become the Ghost King, and cement his identity as a Villain while also forbidding Ghosts from entering the Human Realm without his permission?

He may have gotten a bit carried away and forgotten that the Villain thing was a disguise...but hey! He was still preventing Ghost Attacks! ...mostly. That's got to count for something right?

He may have let the Bit run a bit too far...

...

Check the tags for more context!

[iero]

Firefly Festival | 9/23/22 | x

[lucabyte]

On autonomy, and what it means to be Obliged to Help.

Bonus:

[gordonfreemanspussy]

happy october :]

@scienceteamtober day 1: before the game

with lovely beautiful awesome forever character art by @winkreallyisntable goes CRAZY!!! full art below the cut.

[noxcheshire]

I am sick, dizzy, and can barely think but you know what would be WILD?

If the DC universe was an echo of Danny’s world. What if the continents of their planet shifted enough where Amity is now in New Jersey and had then become Gotham.

And when Danny died underneath the portal a part of his death fractured and imprinted itself into those various worlds. One of them being Gotham, where Danny’s home ironically used to be where Wayne Manor used to be.

So just imagine it, you’re coming back from patrol, grimy, sweaty, and with questionable intentions by dressing as an overgrown bat when suddenly the lights dim. It dims and brings darkness, only enough light to catch the beady marble eyes of the bats you fear.

And then electricity jumps in the middle of the room, flinging itself around like an agitated snake in wide open circles.

Everyone is backing away, some weary, some cursing, some just half way out of their own suit.

And then a child — barely as old as your youngest now, flickers to life before you, screaming and screaming, wailing in pain as the scent of burning flesh mingles into the air. You can see the boy, black hair and blue eyes that underneath the bright light that burns them is causing black to turn white, and blue to turn green.

The electricity crackles and when the boy is about the drop, limp, certainly lifeless, he vanishes as if nothing had ever been there.

But he comes back, he always comes back, in the moment of calm and in the moment of despair, echoing that painful wailing of death.

It’s so wrong.

It’s very, very wrong.

It didn’t even matter anymore why the boy showed up, only that this moment of pain continues to haunt the cave of heroes.

Continuously haunting, even as some whispered apologizes when the boy appeared. Continuously haunting, even as some provided songs of comfort when the boy appeared. Continuously haunting, even as stories of Gotham are told and promises (though uncertain and flimsy at best) are spoken to the wailing boy who always drops fast and disappears just as quickly.

Always, it was the same.

Until one day it wasn’t.

The electricity crackled like it always did. A spark, and then a calamity of light. And the boy would be there, uncurling himself into a tense position as he would wail.

But not this time.

Instead the boy curled himself in the air, calm as can be, almost as if he were sleeping. Even the electricity that they have learned to dance away from was calm, gentle, like ocean waves.

And when the electricity vanished, the boy did not, instead dropping to the floor where Dick was quick to catch him, grunting in preparation of weight only to show alarm at how thin the boy truly was.

On that face that has haunted them all for months is just a boy, sleeping, and scarred. A boy breathing very slow, slower than what they would like, but here in the physical realm with them.

Dick brushed back bangs of black hair, and slowly, ever so slowly, glazed blue eyes stared back.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

This wine tastes like pigs blood!

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