Moving Sea, by Caspar Johann Nepomuk Scheuren (1810-1887)
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if any non-palestinians, especially in ‘the west,’ especially in positions of bodily safety, especially especially whites, are still feeling hopeless and lost about the genocide, may i offer, as gently as possible... get over it. your body is safe. you have been told over and over and over exactly what you can do to help, in exhaustive detail according to your specific social and political position. find out what you should do and do it if you can. if you can’t, that’s on you. find something you can do. stop asking palestinians to tell you what to do; take what is already given. you can find the instructions that have already been so explicitly left for you. you are an adult. your job is to keep moving. you are not allowed to be hopeless — that is a betrayal of everything the palestinian community and its supporters stand for. keep moving. don’t let anyone tell you that anti-zionist means anti-semite. don’t let anti-zionists around you become anti-semites. don’t let islamophobia stand. know that propaganda works and it’s working on you right now. keep moving. you are an adult. your life is yours to care for — that means finding the support you need, which also means knowing the boundaries and needs of those supporting you. you aren’t special. you aren’t alone. keep moving. you are not a hero. you are safe. you have agency. there is nothing you can do that can’t be done by someone else while you recharge. you are part of a collective; no one is looking directly at you. do what you can, and if you can do nothing, make your peace with that. palestine has no time for your shame or your guilt. feel these feelings when they come to you and then move through them.
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getting emotional over footage of an amateur scuba diver interacting with a coelacanth. they are hunted by large deepwater predators, and here comes a large creature bearing the brightest lights it's ever seen, making strange noises, but it does not shy away. it hovers, calmly, as the diver reaches out and trails a hand down its back. im strongly against the anthropomorphizing of real life animals but the stupid emotional part of me loudly insists this is because it recognizes us, the alternating movements of its four paired limbs matching the diver's four paired limbs, & it is thinking, "hello, cousins, we missed you these 66 million years, it's so good to see you again. welcome back, welcome home."
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we haven't talked enough about how the Bathroom Scene ends with Kaz dramatically saying "if you ever cared about me, you won't follow. you'll stay here" as he walks off to his potential death and then the literal next page opens with Inej internally monologuing "well that was offensive. What would I even do...go home and marry a normal man? Yeah right. You're it for me, buddy" as she stalks him over the rooftops
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The true blasphemy of literature is the romanticization of romance. They make it beautiful—all soft words, and elegant lines—and enchanting, with magic sparkling in the margins.
And you can feel it in the depths of your soul, an unexplored ocean of laughter and tears and dreams all melded together.
The yearning of a kiss that brushes against the steady and so so warm pulsing beat of life—against the smooth skin of a lovers neck. The desperation to touch another being and feel that they’re alive, right there next to you—right there, and never leaving.
To love and be loved is a jewel among treasures and all that we each seek—all that we each desire.
It burns and it burns and it burns.
“I would know him in death, at the end of the world.”
“Come home and break my heart, if you must.”
“Occasionally, Fate pulls itself together again and Time is always waiting.”
“And perhaps it is the greatest grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone.”
“By you, I am forever undone.”
“One word from you shall silence me forever.”
“A heart’s a heavy burden.”
“My sweet nemesis.”
“If you have to go, you know I will go with you.”
and then?
and then.
The book is over.
And you remember that love like that doesn't exist.
Not in the real world.
And all you can do is cry.
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Colourful new commission. Another showing for Good Omens which pops up on about every third list I get sent! I like varying the covers I use for it and I particularly like this one with a little relaxing Crowley
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small doodles for some requests "dedf1sh for old time's sake", "octopus kickflip", and "dedf1sh learning how to skateboard when they were younger they suck at falling theyre all shredded up"
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See you in hell.
[ID: A series of gifs from the Good Omens 2.2 minisode "A Companion to Owls."
Sitis looks disbelieving as she says, "…No. God wouldn't!" Crowley gives an exaggerated frown and replies, "Are you sure?"
Sitis looks horrified and says, "But they've done nothing! They're innocent!" Crowley nods impassively: "So were the goats." Sitis stares at him in horror.
In the cellar, Aziraphale looks back over his shoulder, seeming offended. "God's [side], of course!" Crowley reclines, raising his eyebrows and nodding. "Oh, really. Same God that wants me to whack the kids?"
Aziraphale looks very uncertain, and slowly says, "…Yes. But…" Crowley grins slowly, gesturing to Aziraphale and saying, "That's just how it started for me."
Back in the house, Sitis looks devastated and desperate. "If my children are dead, then… I will curse God, and—"
Crowley swings abruptly around the doorframe and rushes over to interrupt Sitis. "WHOA! That never ends well."
At the cliff's edge overlooking the sea, Aziraphale looks on the verge of tears but determined. "Well. I'm ready to go." Crowley asks: "Go where?" Aziraphale swallows. "To hell."
Crowley sits down on the rock and says, "I'm not taking you to hell, Angel." Aziraphale looks over at him, his tearful expression turning confused. "Why not?" Crowley replies mildly, "Well, I don't think you'd like it."
End ID.]
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