Yooooo hold on.
So if Yuuta cursed Rika by thinking “don’t leave me.” so hard she manifested into a cursed spirit, Suguru’s “at least curse me at the end” to Satoru would then mean, “don’t let me go.”
It’s like saying, “Curse me like Yuuta did to Rika. Love me so bad that you can’t let me go. Hold on to me.”
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i know the character's name is morPHEus but...
the morb doesn't stop.
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listen there really was just something about how in the book, snow’s 3-page descent from hesitant lover boy to deluded psychopath happens entirely in his mind. lucy gray gives him no indication whatsoever that she suspects him, that she’s going to leave or betray him. he’s just sitting quietly in the cabin waiting for her to return when that seed of calculated suspicion, which he has needed to survive the capitol, takes a hold of him and chokes the life out of any goodness left inside him. it really drives home your terror as a reader that “oh my god did he kill her? did she escape? what happened to her? why would he even think that?” in a way that when the movie had to adjust for visualization it lost some of that holy shit this guy has lost it emphasis.
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The thing that I love the most about Doctor Who is that it’s just SOOOOOO bad. It’s awful. It’s dreadful. It’s cheesy and stupid and terrible. It has dialogue like “I am the beep of all the meeps!” It’s truly the most embarrassing cringeworthy thing you’ve ever seen. It’s been that way for 60 years. It’s gonna be that way for another 60. It doesn’t matter what kind of budget or fan base they receive. It’s always gonna be this stupid.
I love it so fucking much.
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Dream doesn’t wait 100 years anymore to visit Hob when he could just do it every night in his dreams, or sometimes at the New Inn and every time is always a surprise to the immortal which amuses the Dream Lord immensely. I’m obsessed with them help lol Print
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The whole "breasts shouldn't be politicized because the primary purpose of breasts is to feed babies!" can be a fine jumping-off point, but I really wish people thought deeper than that when we talk about the ways in which bodies are politicized and restricted.
Like, why's it that when we talk about breasts, they must have some Higher Purpose? It's true that breasts aren't inherently sexual, but they aren't valuable solely because they can potentially feed a baby. A human body doesn't have to serve a Higher Purpose in order for it to not be legislated against or policed, and I just wish people would remember it isn't always about babies, about other people, about anything else other than the people who have that body.
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Zionists want you to conflate Judaism and Zionism. Zionists want you to believe that Judaism cannot exist without Zionism and that all Jews are Zionists. Zionism would have Jews believe that a Jewish state is the only way that they can be safe from antisemitism and will point to any instance of antisemitism as proof that Zionism is the solution- so Zionism wants gentiles to be antisemitic in their support of Palestine. They want you to conflate all Jews with Zionism and the state of Israel, and they want you to treat all Jews regardless of political affiliation as the face of Israel. Antizionist Jews exist, and incidences of antisemitism ostensibly acting against Zionism will not help dismantle the forces propping Zionism up.
Don't do their work for them.
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do you ever think about how in the day i picked up dazai side b dazai had to lie emotionless and soulless—like a corpse, almost—beside the man that gently brought him in, nursed his injuries, held him while he was in pain? he had to keep those suffocating bandages around his entire face, lest this man gain some sort of recognition for the little boy he saved. he had to lay there curled in the fetal position, bleeding and in pain, perhaps thinking about how, in another life, this man cooked for him, tried to build up his strength. read to him to pass the time while he curled up against him like a child listening to a bedtime story. played cards with him. saw through the heartless mafioso. the ruthless killer. and instead saw a boy.
imagine knowing this man, the man who saved you in more ways than one, was going to die one day all because he knew you. because he reached his hand into the darkness and plaintively, like a small child wanting a parent's touch, you grasped back desperately. imagine thinking all of that while that man is just a stone's throw away, making coffee in the next room just like he used to for you in another life. the scent, although you've never been here before, is reminiscent of home. and the tune he's humming? it's the silent melody that plays through your mind seven years later, for the last time as you fall backward off the building with your arms out like an embrace. but, hey. that man is alive. he's happy, although he never knew you. you can die with no regrets.
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this disability pride month, stop making jokes about people in wheelchairs standing up or walking.
can I stand and walk? sure, for a short while and with pain. the consequences for trying to be out all day without a wheelchair are that I'll be in bed for the rest of the week, too tired and in too much pain to move.
but the government won't give me my own wheelchair because they have the same attitude as these jokes - I can stand up, so I don't need one. exercise is good for you, you should walk!
it keeps me trapped in the house, unable to do anything more than short stints anywhere without borrowing or hiring a wheelchair - one that causes me pain to sit in and relies on someone to push me (usually with difficulty), because they're not going to have a high-end chair for that sort of thing.
it's not a miracle that a wheelchair user can stand or walk. it's something we should aspire to see more often.
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