This might be a bit religious coming out of me, and could possibly offend your sense of religion

but i put some thought into the actual art of writing, and i realized that writing stories, be it fiction or fantasy, is almost the same thing as playing god.

You build a character from the very beginnings, height, weight, gender, facial structure, hair, body structure, their families, much like we are given a set framework for our own human bodies.

You build a story line, you define the happenings of their lives, what world they live in, what situation they are in, are they poor, are they rich, are the satisfied.

You decide what happens, whether they are villain or hero, whether they are the sidekick or equal.

and then, you begin your writing, and this is where it gets interesting.

Let your story evolve, limit only the basics, the main plot line, the characters you want in it, but still, let it evolve.

Let your character come out as who he is, let him decide his own identity.

What if half way through, he decided that he doesn’t like being nice?

that he’d rather be the outcast, that he’d rather be outspoken, that he’d rather seek revenge than be the typical hero.

What if halfway through, your sidekick suddenly dies, from a twist that happens. 

What if, like each and every one of us, our characters also have the power to decide their own futures, have the chance to be something different, have the chance to grasp or even let go of their destiny?

What if, they chose a different life than the one you had originally planned out for them?

Would you feel like god? Would you feel as if the character should worship you, for giving them that chance, for allowing them as well as the story to evolve?

Now, what if WE were the characters?

What if we realize that God has given us the power, to make what seems like small decisions in life, what seems like an end he has in mind.

What if we realize like that character, we have it in us, the power to decide our fates, our destiny, which destiny we strive for, which destiny we grasp?

Go on, pick up a piece of paper or open up a document on your pc

start writing something from scratch, make a character, let them build their own lives.

now, put yourselves in their shoes

and like me, maybe, you’ll understand, that we need to be thankful, to the one that allows us to make these decisions, to live life as we would like to, without dictating every single action we make.

It doesn’t matter what religion you follow, there is only God to thank

Imagine.

Imagine a life where you could see threads

Threads that signified relationships between people

A black thread signifying hate between two people

A red thread signifying hurt.

A blue thread signifying neutrality.

A green thread signifying positive feelings

A golden thread that signified love itself.

Would you ignore the ones that are black?

Would you keep close the ones in gold?

What if these threads, showed how relationships were progressing, what if these threads showed how they were changing color.

Would you change your approach?

Would you work on the ones that are black but turning greener by the day? 

Would you ignore the ones that are gold but going black?

How much effort would you put into these, without knowing where these feelings were originating from.

Now, let’s take this up one more notch.

What if, what if these threads, also had arrows, showing who it was that felt it?

How would this change any of the effort you put in towards these relationships?

Would you completely abandon the ones that told you they hated you, but you loved? 

Would you try to start feeling positive towards the ones you hated but who loved you?

Would you rather, put all your effort towards that gold thread, that was gold on both ends? 

Wouldn’t you rather love someone who loved you, and you loved as well?

Wouldn’t you rather know if all that effort you were putting into getting someone to stop hating you was working?

Now take this all away, once again.

What will you do now?

How do you, we, decide which thread is black?

How do we decide which thread won’t go green?

How do we decide which thread is gold or will go gold?

How do we decide which threads are worth our effort?

Or are all of the threads, worth the effort, to see if they can all become at the very least, blue.

perksofbeingtheonlywallflower asked: Because I sent it? Idjit. >__>

thought it would have been easier, to do that on facebook, since i rarely actually check this.

When it rains it pours,

The creaks and groans of the ship echoed through it’s halls as it painstakingly crawled across the atmosphere.

It’s crew watched, with heavy laden hearts as bits and pieces of it’s metal hull fell away, welders and hammers, firing, beating, at what was left furiously, in an attempt to save the valiant steed that had borne them across so many galaxies.

The engines misfired and the ship jerked downwards before the flames reignited. Metal plates wrenched away from their places on the frame, creating breaches, causing chambers to seal away as the pressure in them dropped.

Entire compartments fell away from the behemoth, taking along with it crew and furniture alike that she had borne on it for countless years.

The ships long serving captain stood at it’s helm, gently urging, praying that she held together until they could save it, like it had done for them many a time.

Tears falling down his cheeks, as he watched more of the lights in front of him turn red, as he fought what now seemed more like a losing battle alongside his and her crew.

She had seen them through battles, battles they could have easily lost if not for it’s strong hulls, if not for it’s shields, if not for the ships maneuverability. If not for it’s stubbornness, if not for it’s undying will.

If she had fought so many battles, till the very end, for them, then they wanted to fight her battles, to the very end as well. 

She had traveled years, through storms, asteroid fields, towards the beacon of light that was their home, her birthplace, a place where she would know, her crew would be safe.

She had picked herself up, even after she had been crippled, even after she had suffered a blow that would have felled any other ship, just to see them through to the end, never faltering, never giving up.

She had, somehow, lasted long enough to bring them home.

She had lasted long enough, to see them through.

She had lasted long enough, for them to save her as well.

The engines sputtered one last time, one final burst of propulsion, brought them within range of the tractor beams, the blue light of the starport gently catching the dying beast in its gentle grasp, pulling it into a bay where she could rest knowing her job had been done.

Rest, until once again, she had been rebuilt, tougher, stronger and better equipped to battle through the ages alongside a faithful crew, that owed her their lives.

What am I to say?
When the glamour fades away
What was white becomes a gray
When the truth has come to stay

What am I to say?
When you have steel that turns to clay
when the sun sets on you today
and your bonds begin to fray

What am I to say
When you go out of your way
to help as well as you may
and all you get in return, dismay

What am I to say?
When for everything which you pray
Never respects your wish to slay
instead over and over they flay

What do I have to say?
When the band begins to play
you’ll remember me someday
and then I know you’ll pay.

Epiphany, or whatever you call it. 

I just realized that loving someone, and serving your country, although it might not be the exact same thing, is very similar to each other.

You’re devoted to your love, much like you’re devoted, or at least i hope you are, to your country.

it’s unconditional. 

through thick and thin, (hopefully) life and death, sickness and in health. (just like in those american wedding vows)

you’d do almost anything for your country, like you’d do almost anything for that person you loved. 

another similarity, is the appreciation you get.

just because you love someone, doesn’t mean they love you back. Likewise, your country, could love you back like you love it.

like that person, it could love you as unconditionally, name you in everything, appreciate you specifically for your contributions to it. Honor your name and the things you’ve done or are doing.

you know, kinda like how you mention your parents and their support when you win an award and give your acceptance speech.

yet, it could also love you like it loves everyone else, just as a normal person, someone included amongst the masses.

something similar to “thank you, everyone else in my life.”

But

it doesn’t make much of a difference does it? no matter how they treat you, how your country treats you

coz that is true love. and in case of the country, true patriotism

unconditional and lasts forever.