27🌟| enby | they/he this is chaos personified...a lil bit of everything i have an unhealthy obsession with fictional characters..you will hear about them.
I’m not a fan of anyone who makes someone’s sexuality a byproduct of their trauma, whether that’s Andrew being gay as a byproduct of his sexual abuse or Neil being ace as a byproduct of his mother’s physical abuse-
Neil’s ace rep in aftg is genuinely so important to me, and I think when ppl reduce it down to him being “gay”, just not understanding his attraction, or some other erasure of his demisexuality, it shows a very real problem ace ppl deal with-
The death of a dreamer is a hard thing to witness. We see people who were once filled with ambition and light become silent and dim. People we once looked to as shining examples of how to live become shadowed memories of what has been. People who once seemed like they were destined to change the world slowly succumb to the trials of the world. Harder still is when you realize that the dreamer who has died is the one within you. As if you’ve been living as a voyeur of your past life rather than an active participant in your current life. The truth is: life will beat the shit out of you. You will lose money, friends, family, and opportunities. But of all the things that you must hold on to — no matter how many times life hits you — your ability to dream is most crucial. You must believe that you can make things better, and that you alone can make things happen for yourself and others. A dreamer is not someone who sits idle waiting for their life to change, a dreamer is someone who chooses to challenge reality each day by saying, “I refuse more of the same.” Dreams are, in fact, the antidote to death. Without a dream, you may be alive — but you will often feel like you’ve already died.
my favourite part of the bible is when god said “you know, I get it. being raised as a superstar must be really, really difficult for you. always a commodity, never a human being, not a single person in your family thinking you’re worth a damn off the court— yeah, sounds rough…”
Perhaps I am just a madman who in his mind lays his hands on your temples and hopes his kisses may have the power to kiss away from your forehead all the headaches, from the dimmest past to your golden future.
Franz Kafka, 1912.