Kristina > Recent Status Updates

How did some hearts decide on cruelty, and others, compassion? How did one person look at me and choose hatred, and another, tenderness?

“It never felt like home while I was there, but now that I’m gone…Well, I’m surprised to find that I’ve been thinking about it often.”
“Home can be a complicated word. There are so many places to live in the world. How does our heart decide which ones feel worthy of being called home.”

Someone who looked like me had hurt them, and now they felt justified in hurting me. But what next? What would happen when I met someone who looked like them? Was it right for me to hurt someone else because they had hurt me?
Where did the cycle end?

Be small.
Be quiet.
Be agreeable.
That’s the only way
You’ll ever belong.

Be small.
Be quiet.
Be agreeable.
In order to survive
You must silence your song.

The Shattering taught me that failing to enjoy a fruit is the real waste of its potential, not whether or not you eat all of it.

Those broken notes and that pain you suffered will always be a part of you, but I simply reminded you it doesn’t mean your song can’t still go on.

Where his soul could not bring itself to play a new song over his old wound, I played for him.

Gently, I took the notes of the broken scale, and rewrote them, composing a song to bridge the melody in the places where the notes went wrong.

“Why would you help us?”
“Because I knew no one else would.”

But I couldn’t just watch while someone suffered. I would rather be wrong about her and endure the consequences than let an injured man die.

It was music and yet not quite—something broken, something not what it was meant to be.

He was used to having blood on his hands—but never his own.

What is there to forgive? Ignore forgive and concentrate on living.

The industrial age had only just begun; the planet had reached its Best Before date.

Stuff Braxton. Stuff Goliath and stuff Jack Schmitt. Some things are more important than rules and regulations.

Cash is always the deciding factor in such matters of moral politics; nothing ever gets done unless motivated by commerce or greed.

—are we sure Goliath doesn’t start with an A and end with an N?—

But none of them feel their souls fraying at the edges, torn between three worlds…Quercu does. Her acknowledgment breaks the Changeling’s composure more than anything else. He broke me too, she quietly means.

Saving one lost child may not seem like it matters in the grand scheme of the universe, but it will matter to her.

If the best you can do is claim minor victories against the dark, that is enough.

All music has power. It’s a universal language.

Judgement comes in the form of a hug.

Why must it hurt to be known?

We need never be hopeless, because we cannot be irreparably broken.

We had to forgive to survive the labyrinth.

“After all this time, it still seems to me like straight and fast is the only way out—but I choose the labyrinth. The labyrinth blows, but I choose it.”

And that was it. She didn’t leave me enough to discover her, but she left me left me enough to rediscover the Great Perhaps.

“Don’t ever do anything like that again,” he said. “But, Lord, ‘subverting the patriarchal paradigm’—it’s like she wrote the speech.” He smiled and closed the door. (Loved this part so much I cried)

When you stopped wishing things wouldn’t fall apart, you’d stop suffering when they did.

Everything that comes together falls apart.

There is no best and no worst, that those judgments have no real meaning because there is only what is