Natalie Dormer is a Woman We Love [x]
An unexpected journey + objects
You don’t know anyone at the party, so you don’t want to go. You don’t like cottage cheese, so you haven’t eaten it in years. This is your choice, of course, but don’t kid yourself: it’s also the flinch. Your personality is not set in stone. You may think a morning coffee is the most enjoyable thing in the world, but it’s really just a habit. Thirty days without it, and you would be fine. You think you have a soul mate, but in fact you could have had any number of spouses. You would have evolved differently, but been just as happy.
You can change what you want about yourself at any time. You see yourself as someone who can’t write or play an instrument, who gives in to temptation or makes bad decisions, but that’s really not you. It’s not ingrained. It’s not your personality. Your personality is something else, something deeper than just preferences, and these details on the surface, you can change anytime you like.
If it is useful to do so, you must abandon your identity and start again. Sometimes, it’s the only way.
Set fire to your old self. It’s not needed here. It’s too busy shopping, gossiping about others, and watching days go by and asking why you haven’t gotten as far as you’d like. This old self will die and be forgotten by all but family, and replaced by someone who makes a difference.
Your new self is not like that. Your new self is the Great Chicago Fire—overwhelming, overpowering, and destroying everything that isn’t necessary.
- A compliment
- A story
- Why you follow me
- If you met me what would you do
- A cute message
- One thing you want to tell me
- One thing you want to know about me
I’ve been trying to figure out who I am. I can tell you that when I stare at a room long enough, I’m nauseated at how disjointed everything looks — like a dollhouse with ugly furniture. I can tell you that I’ve been so tired lately, no matter how much sleep I get. There are thousands of worlds, universes even, inside of my mind, but I can’t tell you the names of the planets and the galaxies. I’m thinking of how I am, and I’m unsure of what the answer is. I’ve gotten terrible at articulating my thoughts, it seems. My words aren’t flowing. They’re stuck. I’m in a rut. These are my thoughts, but why do they feel so foreign? Where have I gone? I’ve hidden myself in a labyrinth with no end, but I wouldn’t be able to answer you if you asked me what I was hiding from. There are no monsters in my kingdom, but I still tremble in my dreams. If you’ve figured me out, or if you’ve found me, please let me know.
I have a new destination. My journey is the same as yours, the same as anyone’s. It’s taken me so many years, so many lifetimes, but at last I know where I’m going, where I’ve always been going. Home…the long way round.
Fez /fɛz/: A felt cap, usually of a red color, having the shape of a truncated cone, and ornamented with a long black tassel, worn by men in Egypt, North Africa and by the Time Lords of Tardis: formerly the national headdress of the Turks. Fezzes are often considered as cool.
i run my fingers through my own hair and i grab my own ass
Oh, for God’s sake. Gallifrey Stands!