Latest Posts by sadtimetravellingdork - Page 2

Now that I study Politics, all I can think about is the theories applying to what she’s saying. I should be able to just enjoy Monty Python.

Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975), dir. Terry Gilliam, Terry Jones

I realise S8 is out now but some of their scenes together queerbated that much that I don’t think it matters.

After S7 (read from right to left)

Two Truths and a Lie

A short poem I wrote relating to the lack of justice or transparency in politics:

Two Truths and a Lie.

Can you spot the falsehood?

Or have candour and mendacity become inseparable?

The snakes have danced their dance, and mesmerised the populace,

And now reality is a dream.

Or a nightmare.

Is there a binary anymore?

A distinct black and white.

Or is our world now made in endless shades of grey?

We have been left trying to pick out the minutia,

But when everything is a pencil sketch can differences be found?

The struggle for justice has lost its hue,

When the heroes you found are branded villains and questionedBy a media unable to speak.

Or scream.

The truth of the matter is that there is no truth now.

There are only lies to be found.

And truth.

When Orwellian thinking is the lifeblood of leadership,

Is there any solace to be found?

When the values so long encouraged and denied

Are diminished by the very people who defended, and coveted, those same values

Is there any future?

Will there even be an end?

Or are we trapped in an abyss of decline,

Until our very being is lost to thought so indecipherable and grey,

That we can no longer observe anything at all.

Can you spot two truths and the lie in a post-truth world?

“I just think life is meaningless altogether, most of the time. Yes, there is beauty in the moment, but beyond that? People come and go and you can never count on anyone, and life is just life; a mystery, and ultimately meaningless. The meaning is in the creation, and the creation is a human construct; and people just make up stuff in order to get through life.”

— René Vernor, Anything Is Possible

I was in stitches when I first saw this. The tragic part is it makes too much sense. Why must you put us through this Michael? I get that you’re a demon trying to help his friends, but really? At least we get the Judge’s gestures to represent this debacle.

But like, Jason BEEN knew. 

Deadpool 3 perhaps? The pair have snogged before.

But what if they just happened to cast Andrew Garfield as the boyfriend in Deadpool 2, and someone in the movie is like, “hey, you look just like Peter Par-” but Deadpool tackles them before they can finish and then just looks directly at the camera and is like, “this is my boyfriend, Pete Parkley, and he is definitely not Spiderman because that would be a serious breach of licensing rights.” and then he just grabs Pete and tows him away by the suspicious red spandex collar poking out over the top of his T-shirt

An English Boy thinking of the Nation from which he got his Name

A poem I wrote recently after starting to study Irish history:

I sit in class,

And learn of a past

That in many ways once was mine.

Though generations divorced, is it not natural to pine?

For a heritage too vast to grasp.

At home are pictures of a land unfamiliar:

Of faces, green spaces and castles.

And though their meaning escapes me,

And the memories long left me,

I know they mean much more.

In my mind's ear I hear fiddles,

But all I comprehend are riddles.

To follow is a rite of passage

From which I could only scavenge:

A path left but unearnt.

The waves of the coast call to me,

They beckon me back to the quay.

Again I hesitate to follow,

My connection only being hollow,

But now I have a chance to see.

To see revolutions rise and quickly fall,

The mistreatment and the brawls,

And the poets dreaming of a free home.

They tell stories of white horses- across the fields they roam;

A return to a culture stolen.

To discover the rural lands once more,

To grasp the many wars,

To comprehend the intricacies and allegiances.

The negotiations that devolved into grievances,

And the retaliations spun into tales of yore.

One image stands out in the mist:

A memorial of cold stone.

This one belongs to my grandfather, but I know of many more:

O'Connell; Parnell; Struck down by hearts broken, by causes lost.

The Banshees’ howls echoing around them.

I may not grasp the history, the language or the myths.

My blood may not be Irish like those before me,

But I have the chance to learn, to reconnect.

I know what I am:

An English boy thinking of the nation from which he got his name.

Aka Captain Jack Harkness, or Deadpool (although both like girls too).

lets make a new trope: gay characters who are actually seemingly impossible to kill to the point that all of their enemies are comically frustrated. functionally immortal gay characters. being gay making you immortal. unkillable gay trope.

Yeah, this is painfully me. Only I even do this for things I finished years ago.

Me : *finishes a book/TV show/movie*

Me : I must now go through the Tumblr tag for this and reblog everything.

This is my favourite headcannon in ages!

based on a headcanon I have that he probably told Shiro at some point and Krolia might have seen it during the trip and yeAh

do you ever get confused about where your mental illness ends and where you being a piece of shit begins ?? like am i just being difficult or can i really not do that

Featured Spaceship

My favourite spaceship: the Ancient (both in age and the name of its creators) ship Destiny. A ship that travelled across galaxies for millions of years, searching for meaning in the universe, until Syfy cancelled the show it was on. Such a beautiful design, and well thought out too.

How I treat my Depression

For the last few days I’ve been debating what to write for my first post, and I’ve settled on this. For much of my life I have struggled with suicidal thoughts and brief bouts of depression, and have developed a way of looking at it. For me, depression is like I’m in a sea. Sometimes, I’m doing well and contentedly swimming along, but most of the time I’m simply treading water. However, sometimes something will pull me down, or I’ll simply get tired, and I fall under the water. This drowning may only be brief, or it could be drawn out, and at these points life is just something I want over. To get out, I have to swim up, and sometimes that’s harder than other times, and has been getting harder recently. Hence why I’ve set up this blog- sometimes just having people around you who know what’s happening helps. So thank you internet for existing.