indycinders

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#roundabout

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it's my evil plan

take persey and lure you over here

( •̀ ω •́ )✧

on my way rn to shower you in love and steal persey

expect me in an hour

( •̀ ω •́ )✧

DO NOT STEAL MY CAT.

#silly

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“THEY ARE ALL OKAY, and all those things could exist in THE SAME WOMAN. Women shouldn’t be valued because we are strong, or kick-ass, but because we are people. So don’t focus on writing characters who are strong. Write characters who are people.”

—Lori

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I was productive and cleaned my apartment today uvu now I can focus on other things.

It just… idk imma be vulnerable here for min don’t worry about scrolling past ahaha

Healing from trauma and taking meds and actively seeking help feels so… weird. Like you feel like things are falling apart and will never fix themselves when you’re in a crisis. And your crisis could be so simple or little rather than a huge life altering thing. It could just be a culmination of years’ worth of telling yourself that you’re fine and you’re okay. And it builds inside like a pressure cooker until there’s no more room for the pressure and you’re about to explode.

I feel vastly different today than I did two months ago, a few weeks ago, and even yesterday. And you know a part of my brain is like “oh it’s the meds” which yeah definitely. And there’s that little part that’s trying to convince me I don’t need them but I know I do. And it’s been a thing in the past where I stop because it was too hard to wait for them to work, too hard to just be patient and sit with myself.

And I guess that’s what’s so different about this time. I can just sit here in silence and be with myself and let myself feel my feelings and let them go eventually. And I’ll still be here, on the other side of the crisis, alive.

I don’t know. It’s just weird introspection I’ve been doing today. I haven’t cleaned my apartment in weeks but I did today. I did it step by step. Figured it out as I went. Asked for help when I needed it. Took breaks when I needed it. Got myself some water and I’ve drank most of it now.

Being ill, both physically and mentally, is hard. And weird. And having good days is also weird. I’ll probably be laid up in bed the rest of the day but at least I won’t feel guilty about my apartment being messy.

I can hear the birds out my window, see the sun, let fresh air in my apartment without worrying about someone walking past and thinking it’s a disaster in here. I guess today I’m just… happy? Content?

It’s one of those things that remind me why I’ve been holding on for so long and why I’ll continue to do so. It makes me hopeful for tomorrow and next week and next month and on and on.

Healing is rough. It’s not always easy. If it was, sayings like “time heals all” would be redundant. It also looks different. It could be going out to check mail for the first time in weeks. It could be sitting at a park drinking your favorite beverage. It could be cleaning your apartment because you want to, and not because you’re feeling obligated to.

Mm. Just reflecting on myself and my healing today, I guess. Might delete this later haha.

#cinders talks #mental health #mental illness #chronic illness #chronic pain #CPTSD #depression #anxiety #agoraphobia #healing #healing from trauma

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To-cat-ata in B by sympawnies

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Workin' on redesigns and new character sheets

lil wip

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Right, considering the current state of corporate politics on this site, and that it seems that only those affected seem to be actively speaking on the matter, it is up to I, the only fucking cishet on tumblr, to drag this out to a wider audience.

REBLOG IF YOUR ACCOUNT IS A TRANSFEM SAFE SPACE.

We need to show these higher ups how much we truly value them.

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#it was nyan cat all along #silly

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STNAF Logo

Sorry, I uploaded the wrong file THIS is the new STNAF logo

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got my ren playlist on, gonna put my face mask on, might do some trauma writing later idk. i have a lot on my mind right now, i need to push it somewhere uvu

i had a really good day today.

#the first in a while #and like #actually good day #with nothing real bad happening #cinders talks

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For those not in the know, this is one of the Amanita mushrooms referred to as a Destroying Angel. Never, ever, ever, ever forage with an app. Especially for mushrooms.

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The moon says happy Pride Month yall!

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OKAY SIT DOWN SHUT UP, WE’RE GONNA TALK COLORS

THIS IS SAPPHIRE

THIS IS TEAL

THIS IS PERIWINKLE

THIS IS AZURE

 AND THIS IS TURQUOISE

WONDER WHY THOSE ALL DON’T LOOK LIKE THE SAME COLOR? BECAUSE THEY ARE NOT 

OTHER THAN BEING PART OF THE SAME FAMILY OF BLUES, THEY ARE NOT ALL THE SAME FUCKING COLOR! WHY WOULD THEY ALL BE THE SAME FUCKING COLOR! DO YOU THINK WE JUST NAME NEW COLORS FOR KICKS!?!?!?

WHEN DESCRIBING A CHARACTER’S GOD FORSAKEN EYE COLOR, PICK ONE YA GODDAMN HIPPIE

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i love love <333

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dig

gotta find the joy. gotta dig through the dirt and find it because thats all there is. those little moments are what we get to share together, just a blink in and out of this timeline. and somehow, INCREDIBLY, those little moments are worth it

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space raptor butt experiment

when conservative ideas are put to the test they basically always fail. specifically ruminating on how very early in my career conservative goofs tried to force me into an award for ONE specific reason: irony. in their mind, as a queer artist, i OBVIOUSLY didnt belong there

that is premise RABID PUPPIES had at hugo awards, that CHUCK TINGLE was least likely person to be taken seriously and therefore would delegitimize something serious. to them it was unfathomable that i could be making REAL art because i was too strange, queer, and UNTRADITIONAL

conservatives in literary space believe TRADITIONAL is RIGHT and everything else is distraction. now we have a literal TEST OF THIS THEORY. they GOT TO PICK THEIR FIGHTER in the arena, to see my art and whisper amongst themselves 'this is epitome of progressive artistic failure'

this test has been running for nearly ten years now, not in a lab but ON THIS TIMELINE OF REALITY. and look at the results, look how much tinglers resonate, how many buckaroos have gathered to support my art. CAMP DAMASCUS was a best seller. BURY YOUR GAYS COMIN IN HOT

this is not a moment to just sit around and pat myself on the back, but i think it is worth recognizing something. RABID PUPPIES and all of those conservative literary goofs were unequivocally WRONG about me and my art. because they are philosophically wrong about EVERYTHING

they have joined a long line of lonesome whining goofs who will say ‘let the market decide’ and when the market decides that their work is slop they will CONVENIENTLY forget what they initially stood for. more sad lonely devils moaning in their basements while we trot in the sun

i will end this observation with this: THANK YOU for being a part of this experiment with me, for seeing my unique expression and trotting along beside me. for as much as i have proven love to you on this path, YOU HAVE PROVEN LOVE TO ME. HERES TO TROTTING INTO THE FUTURE