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#do anything really
koddlet · 6 months
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personal rules for winter ❄
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romanceyourdemons · 10 months
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so much love for characters who are desperately unsure whether they’re a good person, a redeemable person, a person worth saving, but are absolutely certain that they’re a grade a hottie
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kedreeva · 4 months
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There's some dude (derogatory) on FB who is PISSED people are pricing their farm fresh eggs at $2 and $3 a dozen instead of $4+, saying it's "disrespectful" and "undignified" and "I'm trying to feed my kids" like Sir, you are on a Facebook group page bitching about your neighbors egg prices because your pet chickens aren't earning you a living wage and you think it's your neighbors' fault, you do not have a leg to stand on here wrt dignity.
Also half the answers are like "I give them to friends and family free" or "I donate them to food banks" or "I'm making them affordable to folks who might not otherwise be able to get them now that they're so expensive in the store" and "if you think you're going to turn a profit keeping backyard chickens you have been wildly misled" and so on, and so forth, and I'm so living for it.
and I can tell you right now, he did NOT like my answer of "if you're trying to feed your kids, I hear eggs are edible."
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callmearas · 1 month
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You know what sucks? Recognizing yourself as a person who lost their ambitions. Or maybe I never had them at all and what I thought were ambitions were fleeting whims that hit like an addiction because of my ADHD. I feel like I found a comfortable space that's good and fine and safe and settled in and have made it worse for myself because of that. I want (wanted?) to be a writer, and yet I never write, or write only when the emotion takes me, which is like once every generation. I think I understand storytelling and everything I read but then I see people who really (actually?) care and how much they dissect and actually understand how to do it, how it's done well. I wanted (want?) to play music but only play now to teach others, never doing it for myself. I feel like a dead end.
I stopped seeing myself as exceptional as someone who deserves to speak and be heard and only parrot what others say. I've let myself become a ghost before my death, someone who might be rememered as a shrivelled and decayed branch on my family tree. And what does thinking that say about all of my family who has or still lives, having found their homes and still continue to build them. How can I feel so useless and undeserving of pride and still I have the gall, the conceit, the egotism to place myself first, to not think about how everyone places themself first.
Even in this moment I can't stop myself from calling myself garbage for thinking these thoughts are worth editing. I've changed words to those I feel would provide more impact. Why? Am I trying to convince you, the few real people I believe might actually be following this nothing blog, that I am a deep and truly erudite and intellectual writer? That I sow misery as easily as I breathe? Who the fuck am I to think my thoughts are worth listening to? How can I extol feeling that everyone else deserves to have their voice heard, to communicate what they really want, and yet see myself as garbage who will not contribute anything of worth to the world. I said to myself that the only thing I knew I wanted to be was a good person, and despite the effort I know I am making it that regard, I feel like I will only continue to fail and hurt people as I make mistake after mistake on the way there.
And none of this is special. Millions, (no hundreds of millions, [no billions]) of people go through these thoughts which makes me feel comfort that I am not alone, but also made me feel utterly unimportant. I feel a part of a great oneness, and yet feel despair that I don't stick out enough.
Why am I not special? How can I be feel warmth at the thought of common identity, of not being alone, and still so unsatisfied? Why am I not more special? Why do I need to be special? Why am I not doing anything about it? Why don't I do the things I know that works?
I have no answers, no yearning, no exceptionality, no focus, and no fucking clue, only questions, comfort, ego, and wants I'm letting die as I wait for oblivion.
I just want to want again. No, I need to need, I need to obsess, to so strongly desire something, anything, that I will change myself to do something about it again. I want to want to be a writer, actor, musician, teacher, good person again, to be the expert that others can turn to, to learn from, to trust. But my ADHD will shift that around so suddenly that I'm never wanting the same thing in the morning as I fell asleep with. The worst part is that I know how to change all this, but I can't focus on changing long enough that anything will happen for long. No, I only focus on finding comfort now, not satisfaction. I only focus on hearing and not being heard.
I'm fucking stuck.
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William Afton into the FNAF-verse
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vita-divata · 3 months
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Getting ready for bed~
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junotter · 1 month
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just some designs mainly created because I wanted to draw hakama and then it spiral out from there
bald zuko under the cute
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unforth · 10 months
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Gentle reminder that very little fandom labor is automated, because I think people forget that a lot.
That blog with a tagging system you love? A person curates those tags by hand.
That rec blog with a great organization scheme and pretty graphics? Someone designed and implemented that organization scheme and made those graphics.
That network that posts a cool variety of stuff? People track down all that variety and queue it by hand, and other people made all the individual pieces.
That post with umpteen links to helpful resources, and information about them? Someone gathered those links, researched the sources, wrote up the information about them.
That graphic about fandom statistics? Someone compiled those statistics, analyzed them, organized them, figured out a useful way to convey the information to others, and made the post.
That event that you think looks neat? Someone wrote the rules, created the blogs and Discords, designed the graphics, did their best to promo the event so it'd succeed.
None of this was done automatically. None of it just appears whole out of the internet ether.
I think everyone realizes that fic writing and fanart creation are work, and at least some folks have got it through their heads that gif creation and graphics and moodboards take effort, and meta is usually respected for the effort that goes into it, at least as far as I've seen, but I feel like a lot of people don't really get how much labor goes into curation, too.
If people are creating resources, curating content, organizing the creations of others, gathering information, and doing other fandom activities that aren't necessarily the direct action of creation, they're doing a lot of fandom labor, and it's often largely unrecognized.
Celebrate fan work!
To folks doing this kind of labor: I see you, and I thank you. You are the backbones of our fandoms and I love you.
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inkskinned · 8 months
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the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.
three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.
two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.
their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.
one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.
i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.
i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.
and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?
you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.
a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.
someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.
#writeblr#warm up#this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru#but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist#ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school.#like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it.#was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes.#but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create''#when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work#part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just#like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent.#speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r#ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week#this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice.#''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism#imagine if we said that about literally any other profession.#''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt?#u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky''#we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY#''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''
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[ID: Tweets from Emily 'Soup Lesbian' Gwen (@theemilygwen) on twitter with the following text:
Well, just left a job interview crying because the hiring manager told me they liked my application but were disappointed that I didn't bother dressing appropriately. I tried to explain that I haven't been able to afford new clothes in years but I just couldn't handle it.
That comment and my reaction was one of the most mortifying moments of my life. I thought I put together a decent outfit for the job with what I had, and hearing her say that just destroyed me.
Anyway I'm still looking for work and struggling a lot. Even $5 would help pay for a meal. ko-fi.com/emilygwen
End ID]
Please help Emily Gwen, the creator of the lesbian flag. If you show me that you donated any amount I will draw you something. You can also support them by buying something from their Threadless store!
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hell0mega · 9 months
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it's incredible that tumblr fandom went from DESPERATELY trying to see ANY sort of queer love in the shows we liked, to having shows—high budget, well-made, interesting, mainstream shows staring known actors—that are ABOUT queer love. explicitly, without argument. and just ten years later.
i saw (and reblogged) a post about how GO, ofmd, and wwdits are the new superwholock and i havent stopped thinking about it. cuz i was there, i was in the trenches back in the day. i was there when the writers and actors made fun of us for seeing on screen chemistry and perfect stories to set up romances. they all humored us then shat on us and saw us as a joke. a bunch of weirdo faggy teens that don't think two men can just be friends.
and now look at us. we're seeing the on screen chemistry and it's REAL. it's ON PURPOSE. these ARE romantic stories about queer people. we're not projecting or have wishful thinking... it's TRUE!! it was written and directed and edited and acted that way in earnest. i will take NO SHIT regarding these shows and people's love for them.
and do you know WHY these shows are being made now? these well thought out, feels-real, non-pandering queer stories? it's BECAUSE OF WHAT WE DID ten+ years ago. a lot of queer media never got the green light to be made because execs don't think there's enough of an audience. that more people will dislike the gays than like them. and we've shown them that that's unequivocally untrue. the outcry we had for all those years, the reviews we left, the statements we made, the backlash, it gave show runners ammunition to say "hey. people will watch this. they will like it. let us make it."
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mumblesplash · 5 months
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in honor of last season’s poem being called “”end poem”” (all quotes mandatory) this season i made one out of pieces of the actual end poem
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panstarry · 2 months
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my final from last semester that i made into a zine. cooked this one up in a couple hours before the critique (the ink was still wet!), so it's very raw and kind of sloppy but the sentiment is there. i love you trans people of color. we are the backbone of this community 🌟
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stil-lindigo · 25 days
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ARTISTS FOR PALESTINE 🇵🇸 - ROUND 3!! On the 26th April and 3rd of May, I'll be doing art requests on stream with other notable artists to raise money for Palestinian escape funds.
This round's roster is very lucky to include returning artists including webcomic artist Graveweaver (I'm The Grim Reaper), @wolfythewitch, Cuptoast, Denimcatfish and more.
If you won't be able to make it to the streams but would still like to donate money, you can find a spreadsheet with hundreds of escape funds listed here. Alternatively, you could donate to one of three funds that I am focusing a lot of my efforts on.
Donate to Anwar's family (€8,000 from escaping) Donate to Thaer’s fund (€7,000 from escaping) Donate to Salwa Al-Shandagha ($9,000 from escaping)
As always, these fundraiser streams will always be available to watch over on my twitch channel here. Hope to see some of you there!
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fimbry · 10 months
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Whole ass man in my kitchen slamming cabinets for attention.
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The FNAF movie is just Mike getting bullied by animatronics
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