Hello! I Was Wondering If You Had Any Advice For Me. I Found A Fresh And Fully Intact Squirrel Body In

Reelaeshunsheep

ppl: man, it’s gotta be so boring not having a crush. or be in a relationship. like - tf do you do all day?

ppl: *several agreeing nods or scoffs of approval*

ppl: *expectantly turn to me*

me:

me: oh

me: OH

me: oh

me: yeah, um-

me: *coughs*

me: gee - rELaTiONshiPS. yeah. can’t live without ‘em. gotta … uh ….

me: rOmAnCe it up amirite

Some new sigil designs that will be avaliable on the 30th

Always open

Reblog if it's okay to befriend you, ask questions, ask for advice, rant, vent, let something off your chest, or just have a nice chat.

I love winding trails that seem to go on forever and bends blocked by trees so you can't see the other side and places just covered in moss.

I love the smell of mornings after rain and the smell of autumn.

I love seeing birds of prey flying about and perched above the ground and trying to guess what species they are.

I love the silence of a forest. Even when I'm with other people and they're talking it barely affects the stillness.

I love walking along rivers and streams. And climbing paths made by other hikers to get close. I love finding mushrooms and getting so turned around on the trail that it takes forever to find your way back.

I love driving through mountains and watching as the landscape gets smaller and smaller.

I love the little things about hiking and being outside that make me happy.

My face is having uncontrollable spasms. Great. It hurts really, really, really bad.

I think part of why I have trouble explaining pain to the doctor is when they ask about the pain scale I always think “Well, if someone threw me down a flight of stairs right now or punched me a few times, it would definitely hurt a lot more” so I end up saying a low number. I was reading an article that said that “10” is the most commonly reported number and that is baffling to me. When I woke up from surgery with an 8" incision in my body and I could hardly even speak, I was in the most horrific pain of my life but I said “6” because I thought “Well, if you hit me in the stomach, it would be worse.”

🍊 The Orange by Wendy Cope

🌅 Illustrated by Peeta Mellark

you have invited strangers into your home, helen pevensie, mother of four.

without the blurred sight of joy and relief, it has become impossible to ignore. all the love inside you cannot keep you from seeing the truth. your children are strangers to you. the country has seen them grow taller, your youngest daughter’s hair much longer than you would have it all years past. their hands have more strength in them, their voices ring with an odd lilt and their eyes—it has become hard to look at them straight on, hasn’t it? your children have changed, helen, and as much as you knew they would grow a little in the time away from you, your children have become strangers.

your youngest sings songs you do not know in a language that makes your chest twist in odd ways. you watch her dance in floating steps, bare feet barely touching the dewy grass. when you try and make her wear her sister’s old shoes—growing out of her own faster than you think she ought to—, she looks at you as though you are the child instead of her. her fingers brush leaves with tenderness, and you swear your daughter’s gentle hum makes the drooping plant stand taller than before. you follow her eager leaps to her siblings, her enthusiasm the only thing you still recognise from before the country. yet, she laughs strangely, no longer the giggling girl she used to be but free in a way you have never seen. her smile can drop so fast now, her now-old eyes can turn distant and glassy, and her tears, now rarer, are always silent. it scares you to wonder what robbed her of the heaving sobs a child ought to make use of in the face of upset.

your other daughter—older than your youngest yet still at an age that she cannot be anything but a child—smiles with all the knowledge in the world sitting in the corner of her mouth. her voice is even, without all traces of the desperate importance her peers carry still, that she used to fill her siblings’ ears with at all hours of the day. she folds her hands in her lap with patience and soothes the ache of war in your mind before you even realise she has started speaking. you watch her curl her hair with careful, steady fingers and a straight back, her words a melody as she tells your eldest which move to make without so much a glance at the board off to her right. she reads still, and what a relief you find this sliver of normalcy, even if she’s started taking notes in a shorthand you couldn’t even think to decipher. even if you feel her slipping away, now more like one of the young, confident women in town than a child desperately wishing for a mother’s approval.

your younger son reads plenty as well these days, and it fills you with pride. he is quiet now, sitting still when you find him bent over a book in the armchair of his father. he looks at you with eyes too knowing for a petulant child on the cusp of puberty, and no longer beats his fists against the furniture when one of his siblings dares approach him. he has settled, you realise one evening when you walk into the living room and find him writing in a looping script you don’t recognise, so different from the scratched signature he carved into the doors of your pantry barely a year ago. he speaks sense to your youngest and eldest, respects their contributions without jest. you watch your two middle children pass a book back and forth, each a pen in hand and sheets of paper bridging the gap between them, his face opening up with a smile rather than a scowl. it freezes you mid-step to find such simple joy in him. remember when you sent them away, helen, and how long it had been since he allowed you to see a smile then?

your eldest doesn’t sleep anymore. none of your children care much for bedtimes these days, but at least sleep still finds them. it’s not restful, you know it from the startled yelps that fill the house each night, but they sleep. your eldest makes sure of it. you have not slept through a night since the war began, so it’s easy to discover the way he wanders the halls like a ghost, silent and persistent in a duty he carries with pride. each door is opened, your children soothed before you can even think to make your own way to their beds. his voice sounds deeper than it used to, deeper still than you think possible for a child his age and size. then again, you are never sure if the notches on his door frame are an accurate way to measure whatever it is that makes you feel like your eldest has grown beyond your reach. you watch him open doors, soothe your children, spend his nights in the kitchen, his hands wrapped around a cup of tea with a weariness not even the war should bring to him, not after all the effort you put into keeping him safe.

your children mostly talk to each other now, in a whispered privacy you cannot hope to be a part of. their arms no longer fit around your waist. your daughters are wilder—even your older one, as she carries herself like royalty, has grown teeth too sharp for polite society— and they no longer lean into your hands. your sons are broad-shouldered even before their shirts start being too small again, filling up space you never thought was up for taking. your eldest doesn’t sleep, your middle children take notes when politicians speak on the wireless and shake their heads as though they know better, and your youngest sings for hours in your garden.

who are your children now, helen pevensie, and who pried their childhood out of your shaking hands?

I swear I saw a tumblr post on here that said ‘horses have over 4,000 bones’ and i don’t know where it came from because its totally wrong, they have 205, but what kind of fucked up horse has this person seen out there because I’m absolutely terrified of it 

how to live life like a ghibli film

1. go out in nature more. every studio ghibli film has some aspect of nature intertwined with the storyline. sometimes its hard to get the energy to go outside, but just going out on your deck or opening the window in your room or taking a walk around the block is enough. if you feel like it, go for a hike! go into the woods and look at every flower, and every tree. look at the mushrooms and streams and notice the beauty of them. look at nature like you’ve never seen it before. wake up at 4 and watch the sunset. put plants around your room. realize how beautiful the world is around you. appreciate it. 

2. get a hobby! this step is certainly easier said than done, but its so worth it. struggling with mental illness makes it especially hard to get a hobby, but its very important that you don’t spend the majority of your time on social media. Start small. If you want to start drawing get a coloring book and fill in a picture with beautiful markers! If you want to write find a random prompt online, give yourself 30 minutes and see what you can come up with. Want to try baking? Start with an easy recipe, like chocolate chip cookies, and share them with your family or friends, or just yourself! Try out a bunch of hobbies, and see what you like best. Maybe you like making jewelry or writing poems or creating digital collages or making video edits or decorating your room or riding a bike or sewing or reading. The possibilities are endless, and getting a hobby you enjoy is very important, and fun.

3. start appreciating small things and noticing details. I don’t know how to explain this step, but in studio Ghibli films, small things always stick out. There are beautiful tiny details that make the story so much more magnificent. small details make the studio Ghibli films what they are. maybe on your way to school/work the sky was a really pretty color. Or the tea you made in the morning was perfectly steeped. appreciate small details of life that you don’t normally notice.

4. appreciate food. Pay attention to your food. If you can, try and make/bake your own food! But if you can’t, just be mindful of your food. Try not to eat while you’re on your phone. Dedicate times to just eating. Appreciating the food in front of you. Make yourself the ponyo drink with milk and honey, or ponyo ramen! Make yourself your own blend of tea like the Baron!

5. be kind and help others. Being kind doesn’t have to be a grand gesture, it can be smiling and waving at a baby in a café, or helping your mom finish the dishes, or paying for a friend’s coffee. Small gestures not only put good out into the world, but they also make you feel better. When you can, help others. Try volunteering at an animal shelter, or babysit for your aunt without charging her, or just listen to your friend when they’re going through something and be there for them. In every Ghibli film, the main character is always helping others, and being kind. Try to be like kiki, when she returned the pacifier to the mother who forgot it, or like chizuru from the cat returns, who risks her life to save a cat. Kindness comes in all shapes and forms, so just try your best to do what you can!

6. be your most authentic self. Stay true to who you are. dress how you’d like. Cut your hair like you’ve always wanted to. Stay confident and true to yourself. We all feel insecure sometimes, but we need to remind ourselves that we are great. Don’t try and force yourself to be someone you aren’t. Kiki felt insecure in her abilities as a witch, but she stayed true to herself, and believed in herself, and it paid off. Love and appreciate yourself, just the way you are.

7. (not really a tip but a fun suggestion) start collecting something! This is just an extra step that I wanted to include because I think its nice. But start a collection of things that interest you. It could be anything! Candles, stamps, teacups, antique figurines, 19th century photos, lip balms, books, key chains, flowers, hats. The choices are endless.