Flick's Place

Sweet Relief

musicnotesandmusings:


I wrote this song a couple of years ago on a really long flight, everyone else in my cabin was asleep and thanks to my insomnia I was awake and feeling a little melancholy. The rest is after the jump.


I miss the way you held me

Like you were afraid to break me

I miss the way you’d kiss me

Read More

Via Music, Notes & Musings
Rotundlr: mswyrr: tartingshop: Hey guys? If you have time, could you “like” the...

mswyrr:

tartingshop:

Hey guys? If you have time, could you “like” the Elementary trailer?

Even if you’re not in any related fandoms.

I’m talking to BBC Sherlock fans, too.

Look, it’s really uncool to try and make this thing flop before you see more than a three-minute clip….

Via Rotundlr

That “did u know all of ur followers are on tumblrdatinggame.com?” Ask is spam, folks.

stfuconservatives:

Do not go to the site. It’s a spambot. Repeat: SPAM.

Via STFU, Conservatives

Smashwords Insta sale.

nudiemuse:

Now through June 7 get this here little book for three dollars.

Click the cover and head on over. Drop the code in at check out:  ZM25R

Also watch out for a few .99 cent shorts I have about ready to go live.


If you can’t buy feel free to signal boost. 

 

Via Actual Black Person.

French Toast, a pancake, Sausages, Strawberries and Whipped Cream = Breakfast



stfuconservatives:

liberalchristian:

ohzeitgeist:

cdnowak:

ohzeitgeist:

getmetoanunnery:

shortbreadsh:

beholybehappy:

From LifeSiteNews.com:

COLUMBUS, Ohio, April 12, 2012 – Seminarians from the only Pontifical College in the U.S. have an awe-inspiring approach for confronting abortion head-on. Dressed in full regalia of a black cassock, a traditional red sash, and armed with a rosary, the seminarians descend in a powerful show of force every Saturday on a local abortion facility to confront with prayer what the seminary’s rector calls the “poison of abortion.”

Father James Wehner, rector of the Josephinum in Columbus, Ohio, says he believes that seminarians need to “see visibly the forces of evil at work, and respond with an act of faith in which prayer becomes the greater force.”

“American culture is a blessing, but it is also poisoned,” he said. “The clergy, particularly priests, need to be able to confront that poison, not run away and hide from it. That means we have to confront it head-on.”

D:

Yeah, I’m sure the women walking in sense nothing but brotherly love and empathy from these guys in their fancy cassocks, in a line to show their “powerful show of force”, “armed” with rosaries. 

Who on earth thought this was a good idea?

Sigh. Maybe it’s because my priest friends were the kind who went barefoot in seminary to make a statement about poverty, but this doesn’t seem the best way to “witness” or do whatever they aimed to do.  

Call me crazy, but there are other poisons more prevalent in American society (like hated, ignorance, poverty, etc) that I’m sure these future priests could be witnessing to. 

As you noted Natalie, this entire article is couched in military language. Regalia, armed, confront. These are methods for an age past; we as Christians will only alienate our population if we continue in the mode of confrontation.

Hmm.

The purpose of this display is marking the line between the world and the Church, a statement of unity with the Pope and bishops.  It may not be the best pro-life move (counseling and ultrasounds are far more immediately effective), but it is a great moment for the seminarians in formation and the strength of the Church.

The confrontational language has a great appeal to a certain segment of the population (ie, most men).  It makes clear what has been lost for a generation or two, that the Church will stand against the spirit of the age.  That Her priests, to the man, will fight and die for Christ (red in clerical garb is a reminder of martyrdom).

Most importantly, the spiritual worth of hundreds of rosaries prayed for a single intention, is bound to have some effect, on the seminarians, the workers at the ‘clinic’, the women entering.  But these results only show in God’s own time. 

I recognize all of this, but one must realize that this act is reaching no one at all. It’s a masturbatory act, if you’ll forgive the word, that pleases and speaks to only the devout and serves to alienate the Church from the people on the outside, reestablishing hardened boundaries that so many Americans have against organized religion. People will walk past this, roll their eyes and get annoyed, and move on. The clearly militaristic imagery purposefully on display here is unhelpful at best, damaging at worst.

Not only alienate those on the outside. Not all members of the church are pro-life.

Imagine if they spent every Saturday running a free child care facility, or volunteering at a women’s shelter, or spending time with kids in the foster care system. Imagine if they stood like this outside their congressional rep’s office, demanding accountability for childhood disease and poverty. Imagine if they cared about people who were already born, instead of being judgmental of people exercising their legal and medical right.

-Jess

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ THIS (bolded for emphasis)


Music, Notes & Musings: Rolling stone

musicnotesandmusings:

I spent a solid portion of my youth in Nigeria, in and out of school with people in and out of my life. I’ve met more people than I care to remember and I’ve lost more than I care to recount, but, in all that I’ve never actually been scared to go back.

I mean I do have the luxury of having…

Via Music, Notes & Musings

When i was little my cousins would tell me stories with a lot of myths and legends (classic and urban) involved.

We’re igbo so a lot of the stories had a supernatural or religious twist to them; like the woman whose son came to visit and stayed for a week and ten minutes after he said goodbye her other son came home to tell her that his brother had been dead for ten days.

Or the one with the adulterous wife who burnt her bible and the smoke from the burning books didn’t rise up but flew at her and peeled off the skin on her face.

But i’m digressing, my favourite ones or at least the ones that stuck with me had to do with Nostradamus and the people who sought his grave so that they could drink wine from his skull and gain his powers of prophecy.

The seekers would often fail because of three deadly booby traps. I can’t remember two of them but i do remember the test for the pure of heart.

You were supposed to walk across a clearing and if you were evil or greedy an arrow or bullet would come from nowhere and kill you.

This morning i read several blog posts from several people detailing their struggles as they went through life as people of colour, women, LGBTQ and as fat people and i thought to myself wouldn’t it be great if everytime someone was a bigot whether racist, misogynistic, homophobic or what have you and did something cruel based on those characteristics that a foot would appear and kick the guy in the nuts or of it was a woman something equally painful would happen.

Maybe a random cane would appear and give them 15 of its best strokes.

It’s wishful thinking but that doesn’t mean i don’t live in hope.


Lack of motivation” is a generally misunderstood symptom of depression. It does not mean that I sit around thinking, “Oh, I’m so depressed; why bother to do shit I don’t want to do anyway.” It means not that I lack discipline, but that there is a mental disconnect between my conscious mind, which says I want or need to do X, and the part of my brain which actually initiates activity. It prevents me from doing things I would very much like to do, as well as things I need to do, rather than indicating simply a lack of interest in doing things which are not immediately rewarding.

If you want or need to go somewhere, whether somewhere you’re eagerly looking forward to going, or somewhere routine, or to the dentist for a root canal which you may be much averse to but have nevertheless decided will leave you better off in the long run, and you get in your car, turn the key in the ignition repeatedly, yet the engine sputters but does not engage, this is not an indication that you don’t really want to go anywhere. It’s an indication that something is wrong with the equipment you need to transport you there.

I am fully capable of sitting for hours, thinking periodically, “I need to pee,” then, “I really need to pee,” and eventually, “Damn, I need to pee,” before being able to jump start the part of my brain which engages with the task of getting up and walking the ten feet to the bathroom, and initiates the movement which allows me to do that.

The more complex the task, the harder it can be, because a more complex sequence of actions must be, in some sense, imagined and targeted before the actions necessary to bring them about can be initiated. Most people are unaware that this process even takes place, because in a healthy brain, it occurs swiftly and automatically. In my brain, it does not.

Maud, There’s Good News and Bad News.  

Yes.

(via shakethecobwebs, kiriamaya)

this is why i don’t paint or write or do tattoos or sew or make shit or go pee or make food or shower or anything at all fucking ever. this right here.

(via uglybuthonest)

omg this

(via fromonesurvivortoanother)

(via pagingmisanthropy)

(via orobolicious)

My head the last few years

Via The Reluctantly Nomadic Nigerian
BLOGGING FOR BROWN GURLS: LITANIES TO MY HEAVENLY BROWN BODY (cont'd):

calloutqueen:

BLESSED ARE THE SISSIES

BLESSED ARE THE BOI DYKES 

BLESSED ARE THE PEOPLE OF COLOR MY BELOVED KITH AND KIN

BLESSED ARE THE TRANS

BLESSED ARE THE HIGH FEMMES 

BLESSED ARE THE SEX WORKERS

BLESSED ARE THE AUTHENTIC

BLESSED ARE THE DIS-IDENTIFIERS

BLESSED ARE THE GENDER ILLUSIONISTS

BLESSED ARE THE NON-NORMATIVE

BLESSED ARE THE GENDERQUEERS

BLESSED ARE THE KINKSTERS 

BLESSED ARE THE DISABLED 

BLESSED ARE THE HOT FAT GIRLS

BLESSED ARE THE WEIRDO-QUEERS

BLESSED IS THE SPECTRUM

BLESSED IS CONSENT

BLESSED IS RESPECT

BLESSED ARE THE BELOVED WHO I DIDN’T DESCRIBE, I COULDN’T DESCRIBE, WILL LEARN TO DESCRIBE AND RESPECT AND LOVE 

AMEN

Via The Reluctantly Nomadic Nigerian

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