Ugh. Not feeling great about things. Considering leaving Texas as soon as possible lol but I can never escape myself
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do any other artists feel like. yeah you're a 'good artist' because you draw things that look nice, but like. TECHNICALLY? you're really not great
i really hate that i can recognise that yes, my art is good, but is it VARIED? is it dynamic?? is my anatomy good? is it full of texture and colour theory? do i know how to do This? can i do That? no, not really. and that's quite painful actually
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Something something you stop by Neuvillette's office to bring him something and have a quick visit and the second you leave, a sun shower starts up.
Slowly at first, as if the sky itself is hesitant to let the rain fall before it opens up completely. Rain lines the streets with gold and clings to fresh flowers sitting in open stalls. A few citizens seek shelter under awnings and cafe umbrellas; one couple braves the rain and laughs on their stroll.
This rain is warm. Welcoming. Unlike the cold, unforgiving rain that follows an evening trial.
It's an embrace; a realization and a confession rolled up in one, heavy, cloudless rain.
One that you just haven't figured out yet.
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I know this is selfish of me to say, so im not gonna tag it, and im gonna censor, but god. Its getting harder and harder to feel hopeful about pale//stine. I feel guilty looking away, but i can only donate so much, and i need to be conscious of what i share. How does something so evil just get to happen? I know the stupid fucking political/economic answer. How are we supposed to save anyone when theres no limit to dead children? Who do i vote for? Who wont make things worse? Does anybody besides nameless people on the Internet care? Other victims are speaking out and doing their job, but since when did powerful nations care about what they had to say?
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Fuck Sweden as a nation for turning the woobification of our history and culture into one of our greatest exports, pretending to be wholesome and peaceful while profiting from conflicts elsewhere. For never having the fucking spine to take any stance ever and acting high and mighty for being "neutral", all while frothing at the mouth to get a piece of that colonial cake from the cool kids table where the superpowers are seated. For recognizing Palestine's sovereignty only to then consider a withdrawal of said recognition in response to the current genocide. For allowing islamophobia to get to the point it is now and then pointing fingers at jews as a whole. For giving less of a flying fuck about swedish jews during WW2 and until now, yet patting ourselves on the back and taking credit for heroic deeds done primarily by individuals.
I wish nothing but absolute hell and misery for Ulf Kristersson, who is even more spineless about his inaction than I thought possible. Who had nothing to say about the burnings of the torah and quran, only to claim that he stands for fighting antisemitism. Who puffed up his chest and was acting so tough about the things he would do once he became prime minister, only to hold up on none of his lofty promises in true conservative fashion. Both he and his lackeys (as well as their fanclubs of raging screaming bigots) deserve nothing but hurt and hell for continuing to destroy the lives of all marginalized groups in Sweden, all while shamelessly increasing their own salaries blatantly in the open, to then have the sheer and utter gut to declare that actively supporting genocide is within our best interests.
This country's audacity is one that only became possible because we sacrificed our neighbours safety for the sake of maintaining our own, because when your most recent war was in 1809 it's apparently not possible to even try and comprehend the horrors of modern warfare. That is, besides producing the tools for it to happen elsewhere.
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Alistair: So I'm not going with you, I see. Any particular reason?
Tabris: I'm not going to risk you getting hurt, Alistair.
Alistair: And you think I want you going in there and sacrificing yourself? You think I want you to die!? But there's no use arguing with you, is there? We don't have time... and you are a stubborn, stubborn woman.
Tabris: You would do something foolish.
Alistair: Maybe… I guess we'll never know now, will we? I guess this is the last chance we'll get… before this is finished, one way or another. Be careful in there.
Tabris: I love you, Alistair.
Alistair:
Guess who made the ultimate sacrifice...?
Me. It was me.
I made the ultimate sacrifice.
The achievement wasn't worth it.
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something something on the one hand a lot of my alienation is correct or at least reasonable but on the other hand if i don’t try to have more (unfounded) hope that people COULD be good to connect with and COULD see me the way i want to be seen and whatnot, then i’m just building up a wall of jaded bitterness around myself and might as well be dead already (which is how i feel and how part of me wishes i were but, you know, not really, it’s just that my ““life”” as it is is empty and thankless and hopeless and i try to keep up the side but.)
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Liyue has many stories about spirits and adepti, from bloodthirsty ancient evils, to benevolent yet reclusive auspicious beasts, to mostly harmless spirits of the land and water. Of the first, most have been subdued long before modern times, quelled by Yanwang Dijun and the adepti. When occasional surges of energy or ley line activity reawaken their remnants, they are either dealt with by the seniors of Chongyun’s clan, who typically take the more dangerous commissions they receive, or by the Conqueror of Demons himself. Of the second—some have faded into obscurity, and others have eventually integrated into the rhythm of the mortal world, becoming part and parcel of Liyue’s prosperity. And as for the last group, they are the ones that appear most often in Chongyun’s Field Guide to Demons and Beasts. They are also… the easiest group to write entries for. Spirits of this kind are numerous, often unnamed, and—the appearance of new species is less easily disproven, if, say, one is forced to document imaginary demons because of their inability to encounter real ones.
Chongyun sighs.
a snippet from god knows where. this was supposed to be the start of a xiaoyun fic but it just turned into liyue worldbuilding exposition and i forgot how i was supposed to continue it, but i still like the way i wrote it, so here it is
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