I 100% Vibe With The Way Tolkien Writes Battle Its Like I Will Give You Every Thoughts My Characters

i 100% vibe with the way tolkien writes battle it’s like “i will give you every thoughts my characters have before the battle in so much details. i will give you every thoughts my characters have during the battle in so much details (along side their actions). i will give you every thoughts my characters have after the battle in so much details (and the aftermath their actions). and i will just tell you: yeah death weapons and combats happened to during the war ig” like he does not give a fuck about the actual battle it’s so funny

Did you know? In 'Revenge of the Sith,' Ewan McGregor was originally supposed to say, "I love you. But I will not help you." Later, George Lucas directed him to change it to "I loved you," as if he was talking to a dead person.

Ewan added: "He really sees that the Anakin he knew is gone - that he's become, and is killed by, Darth Vader...I think it's quite important that Obi-Wan doesn't realize he isn't dead. If he knew Sidious was going to save Anakin and rebuild him, Obi-Wan would have killed him." (x)

we talk a lot about the Jedi being the only group of people in the galaxy who consistently see the clones as people. but what if it goes both ways. if clones are little more than droids, then Jedi are the knights out of fairy tales and romance novels. the galaxy's perceptions and preconceptions are much like anakin's in tpm. the jedi are immortable infallible unkillable. they are paragons of virtue and light and intelligence. they are not people so much as concepts. legends. superheroes.

these people are as removed from the Jedi as they are from the clones. maybe even more so. the clones work with the Jedi every day. the clones see them make mistakes. simple human* errors. they see them mourn and rage and laugh. they see them try. so hard. they see them fail. they see them fall.

their Jedi are people. and the clones love them all the more for it.

subhuman clones and superhuman jedi

Having a friend with mental health issues is actually terrible, because you have a normal, everyday conversation, and then they make a self-depricating joke or a joke about suicide. And they laugh, and you should laugh too, you know about coping with humor, but you can’t because you worry too much. You know them from a long time, and you remember the highs and you remember the lows, and your stomach gets tangled into a knot. You should laugh, but it’s too late, the mood is ruined now, they stop smiling and you hate yourself for making things awkward. So force a smile, but it’s fake, and they know you too much, and you actually just made the whole situation worse, and you hate yourself. You wish you could lie better or care less or just be different but this is how you are, and you had loved ones before struggling with this shit, and you are worried, and you don’t know how to give them what they need. You don’t even know what they need, you never understood people, and you want to, but it’s like there is a glass wall separating you. And you’re scared that you’re gonna let them down, and you try harder. It’s like walking on eggshells, but you don’t actually see the eggshells and you aren’t even sure there are any eggshells at all, because you’re overthink everything and this was supposed to be a normal conversation. You can’t have a normal conversation, because you overthink. So you try to be better, and next time you laugh, but still aren’t sure, if this is what they need, and your stomach is in a knot.

Pirul a naptól már az őszi bogyó

Szőke, pogány lány a szeretőm, engem

hisz egyedül és ha papot lát

rettenve suttog: csak fű van és fa;

nap, hold, csillagok s állatok vannak

a tarka mezőkön. És elszalad. Por

boldogan porzik a lábanyomán.

Pedig fönn a kertek felé

feszület is látja a csókját és

örömmel hull elé a búzavirág,

mert mindig hiába megcsudálja őt

egy szerelmetes, szakállas férfiszentség.

Tizennyolc éves és ha nélkülem van

hallgatva jár, mint erdős partok

közt délidőn jár a nyári víz s

csillogó gondot ringat magában arról,

hogy sohasem telünk el a csókkal és

szomorú. Pirul a naptól már az őszi bogyó.

— Radnóti Miklós

The fact that potatoes aren’t native in my country regularly breaks my mind.

What do you mean there was a time when people lived without knowing what a potato is

WHAT DID THEY EAT???