Idea given by: Anonymous

You know, I really love conventions. We all get to meet up with people who enjoy the same things as us, and who all have a deep passion for something that they can then share with others. Conventions are pretty fun.

Whether you cosplay or not, you’ll definitely met some interesting people. That is, if you choose to talk to anyone. I know that isn’t everyone’s thing and I totally get it. COnventions are full of diverse people (and hundreds of Dave Striders) all ready to express their love for something. I think that may be my favorite part of conventions.

Now, don’t get me wrong, conventions aren’t always the best. Like I got sick at the one I went too just this passed weekend. (I hung out in a bathroom that had no way of turning on the lights. Terrific, right?) There are some people who are very rude, some who may make others uncomfortable, and there are always those pushy buyers. (Although hopefully you never end up next to them at one of the booths.)

Conventions are like a Grab-Bag of the Unknown: Fandom Edition. You never know who you’ll meet or what you’ll see, and I absolutely love that. It’s like when you get a present and on the outside it’s shaped in a way that you honestly have no idea what it could be, and shaking it doesn’t help. And then when you take that first step inside the Convention Hall, you’ve opened your present.

This one time at a convention, I was waiting in line with two of my friends for their photo op. The guys behind us—a few years older, at the least—kept peeking over our heads to see Friend A’s phone. We were all much shorter than them, so it wasn’t very hard. She was on tumblr, of course, and we could hear them whispering. Later, just before the line started to move, one of them told the other that they liked girls with dyed hair. The other agreed, adding “but I don’t really know about the blonde-ish pink-ish color.” At the time, Friend A had dyed black hair, Friend B had dyed blue hair, and I bet you can guess what color my hair was. Yep, that’s right, I was the “blonde-ish pink-ish” one they were referring too. Think the color scheme of a strawberry shortcake. My hair was off-blonde, just tinted pink. I thought it looked rather nice, and it took all I had not to burst out laughing at the comment. While my friends scowled and sent glares over their shoulders, I had never felt prouder about my hair!

Lesson is—don’t let random guys at conventions get to you, as best you can. Most of them are bored or immature, and honestly have nothing better to do, in their opinions. (As I have heard stated by more than one while swimming in a crowd of cosplayers and Whovians.) Especially if they dare talk about your appearance while standing very near to you. Trust me, you look way better than anything their saying.

I had some deep stuff planned out for this, but I guess I’m just not feelin’ that tonight. Whoops! Sometimes it’s good to just talk, anyway. Sorry about that, Anon! Perhaps tomorrow I can get something else posted. We’ll see!

Dress as though you are the Main Character.
Be humble as though you are the Side Character.
Be courageous as though you are the Hero.
Be clever as though you are the Villain.
Act as though you are the Dynamic Character.

Don’t be Static.




(via council-of-the-daves)

There’s that pang in your heart again.

Sometimes it’s there, and some days it seems to be on vacation. That pang; a reminder. It’s an alarm clock. It’s letting you know when you’re feeling.

Perhaps it rings the Gong of Grave Despair. Maybe the Song of Sympathy. Or what about the Tune of Tragedy?

It’s always a different reason that sets it off—something always makes it wake up to remind us that we are, in fact, human. Even when we feel as though we are not. 

We are alive, and we are breathing. Our heart is the constant reminder—the Rememdy of Reassurance.

One heart beats for another, but all beat for each other. 

"Some people care too much. I think it’s called love." —A. A. Milne (Winnie the Pooh)



Fair as few
Seek what you do,
Broken my heart
Left me aside.
Dear sweet lovely
I’ve begun my recovery,
Forgetting about you
And catching my breath.
Invisible now
Only love can say how,
My heart yearns no more
I am free from you.

(via kaylins-ramblings-deactivated20)


If your heart is conflicted, your head should not be and vice versa. One is enough. We aren’t built to handle so much. It would be an easy task if we were. Logic and love are hard to mix, especially when confused. One problem at a time, please.

(Source: alphamans--moved, via kaylins-ramblings-deactivated20)


I think our minds just like to go along with whatever makes them feel secure, but they don’t always like to admit it.

(Source: alphamans--moved, via kaylins-ramblings-deactivated20)


It’s like our minds and our hearts are those two kids in class who don’t really know each other but have to work together a lot. They’re completely different and have a hard time, but eventually things get done. The outcome may not always be right, but they gave it their best shot, and that’s what matters.

(Source: alphamans--moved, via kaylins-ramblings-deactivated20)


If the ones who protect us are not being protected due to misguided pity, then what are we really doing here?

(Source: alphamans--moved, via kaylins-ramblings-deactivated20)

http://alphamans.tumblr.com/post/82172014819/i-get-so-fed-up-when-someone-talks-smack-about-a »


I get so fed up when someone talks smack about a character who goes through a ton of misfortune and tragedy but still manages to be happy. It’s like they are at fault for being positive. They are the ones who continue to smile like it’s no big deal because they are so used to that negativity…

(Source: alphamans--moved, via kaylins-ramblings-deactivated20)