"When I look over my shoulder
What do you think I see?
Some other cat lookin' over
His shoulder at me
And he's strange, sure is strange
You've got to pick up every stitch
The rabbits runnin' in the ditch
Beatniks are out to make it rich"
- Season of the Witch, Donovan
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あけましておめでとう!
Yeah, being late is my middle name! Almost didn't get to finish this today. Crazy tired.
This year makes my first full loop of the 12 years. I started with the rabbit, and here we are again. So surprised I stuck with it, but now it's about the only tradition I keep.
Anyway, I hope no one follows down any bad rabbit holes this year and you don't feel rushed on time, as I always do. Happy New Year!
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0 days until the party
Happy birthday
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they should invent a new type of "staying in bed for 2-3 hours after you wake up repeatedly opening and closing apps on your phone" where it makes you feel awesome and energized and emotionally fulfilled
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Today's tumblr experience.
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It's really fucked up when you treat characters like people and people like characters.
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me lately once again
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These two have the potential to be the funniest duo of the show istg
First one is from this amazing reblog from one of my posts, second one is inspired by some of the replies of said post
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Quick reminder since apparently it bears reminding in both directions: if bigoted people, closed-minded people overall, or your own internalized insecurities misinterpret a queer person’s message in a way that hurts/endangers you, yeah, it sucks, but it’s not the fault of the queer person in question, nor should it be a reason for them to silence themselves. They’re probably as hurt/pissed as you are that someone misinterpreted and misused their message to do harm.
Of course sadly there’ll still be queer people that actually DO mean harm and dismissal to other queer people – I ain’t speaking for those and it’s not the best way to ensure their and others’ wellbeing imo. I’m just saying – not all people will be like that. That’s what I want to believe. So hopefully let’s not put everyone in the same bag, keep supporting each other, WHILE allowing each other to advocate for our own visibility, without having to self-erase or self-censor to accomodate to what haters might say.
It’ll be tougher this way, maybe, because humans seem to like to draw extreme conclusions very quick, but I don’t believe there’s any better way for us all to be alright and stay alright on the long run.
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I saw this on FB today and I wanna try and express something about it. Like, you know the curbcutter effect? Where when curbcuts are put in it benefits everyone (bicyclists, people with baby strollers etc) and not just disabled people?
There is also whatever the opposite of the curbcutter effect is. And this is that.
This isn't just anti-adhd/autism propaganda... this is anti-child propaganda.
Kids have developmentally appropriate ways that they need to move their bodies and express themselves and sitting perfectly still staring straight ahead is not natural or good for ANY CHILD.
Don't get me wrong, I was punished unduly as a kid for being neurodivergent (and other types of kid will ALSO be punished unduly for it... Black kids come to mind) and thus UNABLE to perform this -- but even the kids who ARE able to perform this type of behavior are not SERVED WELL by it. They don't benefit from it.
This is bad for everyone.
The idea that bc some kids may be capable of complying with unfair expectations, those expectations don't hurt them... is a dangerous idea. Compliance isn't thriving. Expectation of compliance isn't fair treatment.
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strong towers require strong wood
and strong wood comes from strong trees
strong trees can bend in the wind
but they do not stay long at ease
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at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"
like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.
"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."
... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.
and i'd still keep writing.
i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.
i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley
"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"
and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.
it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.
you create because you're greedy.
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Out out, Mister Goofums. A fear submitted by Lauren to Deep Dark Fears - thanks!
You can find original artwork or commission portraits in my shop!
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im ill about them. for the record.
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