Been a while since I last sat down to binge-watch an entire series…

But that’s what I did with the recently released Marvel’s Daredevil on Netflix, and damn the series is good. Nothing of the bullshit from the crappy Ben Affleck film (which should from this point on be considered to never have existed in the first place), and fully connected to the rest of the events in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Plus Rosario Dawson and Whatshername that plays Karen Page are hot.

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On the subject of the so-called “friendzone”…

Today, via reddit, I stumbled upon a blog post of a young woman I don’t know on the subject of the friendzone, and being placed there.

There’s already too much toxicity on the subject, so I’m not going to specifically comment on anything she said, nor on the comments in the reddit thread. I do however, want to echo (to a certain extent) something I read among the aforementioned reddit comments.

You keep hearing whining and complaints about the supposedly “nice guys” that turn out to be pricks who show their true nature after they get bounced. What happens to those of us who swallow our feelings, who fuck ourselves up inside beneath a fake smile just so we don’t upset you, and digest a burning dagger to the heart with each word of rejection? What happens to those of us who get unfairly labeled as assholes because our hearts can’t take being so near, and yet so inhumanly, unbelievably, unsurmountably far? What happens to us who die a little bit inside when we see you with someone else, and yet are willing to kill our souls just a little bit more every time by befriending them just to help make you happy and see you happy in any way we can?

This is not intended to be a jab at either men or women. I don’t want to instill more venom on an already poisonous subject like this is. I just wanted to point out that for every “nice guy” asshole that takes “revenge” for being friendzoned, there’s nine or ten genuinely nice guys out there suffering each and every second, sacrificing their own well-being and their own peace of heart for that one person they’d rather see happy instead of themselves. Because in most cases, these genuinely nice guys want to be happy with someone, but if that someone’s happiness lies elsewhere, they will sacrifice their own shot at happiness without the slightest hesitation and give it to the one they care about.

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Your home’s a promise long forgotten…

…it is the birthplace of your dreams.

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I know I’m weak.

I’m fully aware of it. And I know I made that mistake with you. And we both paid dearly and suffered for it. You more than I did.

 

 

I’m not making that mistake a second time. Not again. Not this time.

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I wish I was fucking heartless.

That way I could treat people like shit the way I’ve been treated myself and wouldn’t feel guilty about it.

Or I could stop caring so fucking much about shit that doesn’t concern me just to try and help, which would probably stop me getting into so much fucking trouble.

Fuck this shit, I need to get this high out of my system.

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…And apparently I never do learn.

I need to leave the fucking wall-punching antics out of my office. I got a scolding from my immediate superior, HR and the CEO, because I left one of the walls in the parking lot all bloody and had to have my hands and knuckles bandaged.

Fuck.

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I am a gigantic masochist.

 

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I have a feeling that you don’t have the words.

I found one for you: kissed your cheek, said bye and walked away… Don’t look back, ’cause I am crying.

 

 

I hope your dream came true… mine betrayed me.

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So after a long and grueling battle with his writing style, which can get to be really droll…

…I have finally finished reading the five main books of George R. R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire series (A Game of Thrones, A Clash of Kings, A Storm of Swords, A Feast for Crows and A Dance with Dragons).

Suffice it to say that the guy is an asshole for leaving SO MANY FRICKIN’ IMPORTANT PLOT LINES in the last book hanging from various cliffs. Doesn’t make him any less of an absolutely amazing writer, but still, asshole.

In other news, I think I kinda broke Risk of Rain — then again, Glass Mode is pretty much how the game should be played, haha.

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Passion.

It’s how we do what we do.

To make something beautiful.

To change the game.

It’s that draught that fuels us: The artist, the warrior, the visionary…

It doesn’t matter who you are, or how you look like: everybody can tap into it. We all speak that language.

We know what it is to look up at an impossible challenge, and push forward anyway.

You go again. You fail faster. You fail better.

You get stronger. You get smarter.

And then one day…

It finally happens.

Something breaks.

You push past what you thought your limits were.

That ceiling above you?

It isn’t real.

It never was.

And you realize: it’s not that box you came in that made you…

It’s the moment you broke free of it.

 

Rise Up.

 

Street Fighter V
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