I’m sure anyone who’s ever written seriously has taken up this question, if not on paper, at least in their head. In some desperate moment of self-doubt and anguish, we all end up with the same one: Why am I even doing this? The answer is different for everyone. I know this sounds somewhat…
Ohh, finally— a commission for minesweeperaddict of their pal’s character Jovan, a quasi-mystic eye-possessing gentle-giant-turned-brute demon. It took me way too long to do this— a lot of traveling and being in places without access to proper tools, I apologize.
Design pictures to come.
(Source: legendofmana.info, via ellelegendofmana)
To the girl behind me at Star Trek: Into Darkness
To the girl behind me in the Starfleet uniform who was seriously emotionally involved in the movie, I say, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you were so saddened by what was (if you know even the slightest bit about Hollywood) obviously going to be rectified by the end of the movie, and thus not a cause for such an extreme emotional reaction. I’m sorry that my own emotional reaction to the same scene (laughter) was somehow offensive to you and did not seem appropriate. I’m sorry you were so butthurt that you felt the need to tell me off after the movie and walk away without giving me a chance to defend myself. I’m sorry I can’t just turn my suspension of disbelief on and off like you obviously can—it’s something I’ve never been very good at, especially when things are really silly, like this movie was. I’m really sorry you felt the need to subtly threaten me, like laughing at a movie is cause for someone to hurt someone else.
spreadin’ the good word for my buddy
(Source: theatlamillia)
