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#prose speaks
petricorah · 1 month
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scenes i loved from Real Enough to Get Me Through by @marriedzukka <333 [ids in alt]
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considerablecolors · 7 months
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Despite the explicit instruction not to, Orpheus looks back. He needs to know if Eurydice will follow him anywhere, and so, he turns- And he finds her standing in place, unmoving.
We, the audience, find this sad for a few reasons:
1. We know there was a time when Eurydice would have followed him to the ends of the earth and straight into hell- but now, she watches Orpheus ascend to heaven alone. We know there was a time when she would have followed. We know what has changed between the then and the now.
2. Orpheus does not know what has changed. Orpheus does not know Eurydice stays because of how badly she loves. Orpheus thinks Eurydice has stayed behind because she does not love him enough.
3. Eurydice thinks the same thing. We know this, but we cannot tell them. They have both gone to places we cannot go.
4. By looking back, Orpheus has doomed them both, thinking he was saving them. If given the chance, he would do it again.
5. At some point, Orpheus believed the world was good, and Eurydice believed the world was evil. At some point, their love was powerful enough to change each other's minds.
6. Now, both see what the world could be. Orpheus reveres it. Eurydice fears it. Both are wrong. We don't know if their love can become powerful enough to change their minds again.
7. Eurydice does not follow, but she waits to see if Orpheus will turn around again. She cannot resist one last look.
8. We, the audience, know what has happened, and we know why- Orpheus and Eurydice are not gods. Their mistakes are human. We watch the scene again and again, denying what has transpired, longing for a deeper reason- coffees, lies, a higher power- but the story of Orpheus and Eurydice plays out the way it always does, for the reason it always has- love.
9. These two know the story of Orpheus and Eurydice well. Perhaps they watched it play out. Perhaps they greeted Eurydice at death's door. Perhaps they sat in a tavern and heard Orpheus play. Aziraphale thinks the story is about the inevitably of fate, the inability to resist the higher-ups- a god's will is ineffable. Crowley thinks the story is about the inevitably of leaving, the inability to have a happy ending- a god is always cruel. Neither have gotten this story quite right.
10. Once again, Aziraphale and Crowley have forgotten to focus on the love.
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bardicbird · 1 month
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Working on my own Disco Elysium skills! Individual art pieces and descriptions (in the style of the game) below the cut :]
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DIALECTICS
Examine verbal landscapes. Get to the truth of the matter.
Cool for: Logicians, Philosophers, Asshole Devil’s Advocates
Dialetics urges you to look beyond the basics of conversation. It encourages you to discuss theories, truths and falsehoods, until you exhaust everyone around you with your sheer affinity for taking the most convoluted routes to your deductions—but, hey, it works! Those people are only *really* annoyed because you very accurately psychoanalyzed them.
At high levels, Dialectics will help you reason with even the most convoluted of situations. You will be an unstoppable detective, who may occasionally suffer from some unintended side effects such as: your brain and mouth moving too fast, overcomplicating little things, becoming an insufferable jerk, and joining your local debate team. With low levels of Dialectics, you’re going to have a difficult time seeing through both worldly and interpersonal deceptions. You may find yourself being taken advantage of. 
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EVOCATION
Recall emotions and imagery. Paint complete pictures of the past. 
Cool for: Visualizers, Chronic Observers, Witnesses Of Crimes
Evocation allows you to call forth memories that may otherwise be lost in the recesses of your mind. Previous instances of sound, touch, taste, feeling, sight—all of these are at your beck and call: able to be summoned within and around you in a great miasma of experience. You will be able to relive important events, even those that were only mere seconds, and examine them closer to reveal what you couldn’t comprehend in the moment. 
At high levels, Evocation will help you reimagine scenes that may have happened years ago, lasted the length of a blink—or, perhaps, even allow you to picture memories that you were not present for. You will find yourself constantly transported to the past: a single whiff of a familiar perfume enough to completely derail your senses. With low levels of Evocation, you’re going to have a hard time remembering simple conversations and potentially important visual details. You will have to rely on others in such scenarios. 
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BODY OF LAWS
Know your rights. Remember fun courtroom trivia. 
Cool for: Lawyers, Law-Evaders, Stick-In-The-Muds
Body Of Laws is responsible for your ability to follow the law at any given time—or don’t! Just because you know the rules doesn’t mean you have to play by them. Regardless, it certainly allows you to recall a, frankly, embarrassing amount of your government’s regulations, and may encourage you to ‘stay in your lane’, so to speak, regarding them. Governments aren’t the only entities that enact rules, though: you will also find yourself privy to understanding unspoken boundaries set by people, nature, and even your subconscious self.
At high levels, Body Of Laws will either make you an *extremely* insufferable goody-two-shoes, or a *wildly* effective cheat-of-the-system. You may end up feeling suffocated by all these restrictions you can so clearly see, causing you to become complicit with the movings of the machine—or potentially apathetic to why we need some of these restrictions in the first place. With low levels of Body Of Laws, you may find yourself accidentally violating boundaries you didn’t know existed—whether they be legal, personal, or cultural. 
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shisasan · 7 months
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Rainer Maria Rilke, Falling Stars, 1924
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thepersonalquotes · 4 months
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Live simply, love generously, care deeply, speak kindly, leave the rest to God.
Ronald Reagan
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homosexualanarchy · 11 months
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[ID: A Trigun panel of Vash as an intimidating half-silhouette with his tattered cloak flowing in the wind. Overlaid is a text post by @/LadyBugDots ("dots" stylized with a 0) that reads: "i love being weird and unsettling but also a sweetheart . Peace and love!" End ID]
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derangedrhythms · 1 year
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The time of softest intuitions.
Gail Jones, from ‘Dreams of Speaking’
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snowthedemonfox · 8 months
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is this anything
[ID: A store rack that has mugs which say "she/her", "they/them", and "cool hat" (with a picture of a graduation cap) over Ten, Nine, and Juice from 17776. End ID]
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emberglowfox · 4 months
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being obsessed with an oc story is such a different experience than i understood before mine. ESPECIALLY if its a story you want to tell and therefore can't 'spoil'. it's much much different from a fandom fixation, in my opinion. like.
i have poured my heart and soul into this story and i am unbelievably proud of it. it's been over a year and it's still not finished and i feel like i've gotten nowhere. content of it brings me immeasurable joy. i have to make all of that content myself, or pay for it, or get incredibly lucky when people get interested enough to draw some themselves. i think about it for literal hours a day, almost every day. i can't think about anything else. people talking about it with me is one of the most joyful experiences i've had. i think i've fully exhausted the people close to me with it and i don't blame them. this is maybe the most dedicated i've ever been to something. i don't share interests with my friends anymore and i'm scared i'll fall out of relevance. i created these characters. i feel like they're real. i came up with this plot thread. the characters told me it would happen, and i had little say. they're me. they're not. i feel like it's controlling me. i let it. it lives in my head in the realest, most physical sense. i let it. i love it. i won't leave. i can't leave. i'm not sure anymore if i'm the spider, the web, or the fly
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tarmac-rat · 6 months
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The Man Who Killed Jason Foreman
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Translation is an art form in its own right. You're not just moving words around. You're trying to capture vibes, connotations, themes, subtext - making choices about what to preserve, what context to add, and what subtleties must be lost. You're trying to help two cultures, perhaps even distant time periods, connect with and understand each other...Should you be literal, or try to capture the spirit of the text? How do you decide what the spirit of the text even is?
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sparring-spirals · 1 month
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There is a universe in which i was caught up properly on CR whenever what the fuck went down and Imogen verbally and definitively declared that- after everything leading up to this and the back and forth and indecision- that she'd be willing to take down her mom if need be. and i would have been deeply insufferable and writing 20+ separate meta posts and liveblog yelling posts and shitposts. This is not that universe so instead we will put this post here where i can have wildly uninformed (aka 20 eps behind) Emotions about it until someday i actually catch up.
(I know. i accidentally wrote potentially wildly off base/deeply out of date meta again. what can i say. i like shaking the concept of An Imogen (even if it is Outdated Imogen) in a jar. sorry.)
Because i was watching long enough, I think, to see Imogen in the throes of the hope for something better, to understand that Imogen was viewing her mom was a figure and an idea and an answer, that would make things easier. Her mom was- gone, so early. And so her mom, in her mind, was not a person she was an idea, and there was so much hinged on that! Dogged determination and anger at her father and a deep seated dislike of the powers in her hands and head even as they gave her a guilty rush. There were promises there that maybe no one else had made, but Imogen believed. Things built up. Expectations made. Lore crafted, even unconsciously, around someone who was, yes, important to Imogen, but more importantly: Missing. Gone. A blank slate to be filled in. A promise of an answer guide to open questions.
And then she meets her mom, and Liliana Temult goes from a figure to a person- with all the bells and whistles and rough edges. She meets her mom and her mom turns her away. Tells her to run. Tells her she should go. Tells her to leave.
And Imogen doesn't. In the same way she kept visiting libraries, keps asking, kept pushing for answers when it was just about her magic and her headaches and the voices. Imogen always, always wants to know. She keeps digging, she keeps trying, she reaches out, over and over and keeps trying to touch this figure in mist until she's real under her hands, and. Evidence piles up- of deeds gone wrong, blood on her hands, a figure standing next to Otohan (her friends bodies scattered, lifeless, around Otohan). She keeps reaching out, keeps trying, and is rebuffed, over and over. Things get worse and the skies get redder and magic goes dead and she's still- unsure, because what if there's a better reason, what if there's a better way, there has to be a reason, why. There has to be, right- maybe if- maybe. Maybe-
Its just like- a person as an idea. As a symbol. As a promise. One you build yourself up around and towards. One you talk about, not talk to.
And then the fog clears, and they are a human.
(And she's your mom, and she's not what you imagined. She's done you wrong. She's done your loved ones wrong. She's hurt you. She's hurt others. She's going to keep hurting you. She is going to keep hurting everyone. She is too far gone to reason with. She is not listening to you. She is flawed. She is. dangerous. She looks so much like you. You look just like her. You are so similar. You have always known you were similar. You always hoped. You.
Are not her. You are not hers. She is not yours. She is not who you thought she was. She was always someone else. So are you.)
Imogen walks through the bases pretending to be her mother. Liliana is a known face- a powerful one, a figure people fear. A well known silhouette. Imogen slips into the shadows of it, sometimes, when it serves her, but we know- she knows- its all an act. All a lie.
Liliana, after all, is alive, and well, making choices that she believes in and fighting for things with a dogged determination maybe only matched by her daughter.
Imogen knows this. I think. There's a part of her that maybe wishes that wasn't the case.
"There is no loyalty with this blood." And after all- only living people bleed.
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clotpolesonly · 3 months
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(x)
transcript:
a prayer to an empty font
every day you learn the lie anew, a noise knock knocking in your chest, a moth green-brown and helpless in the warmness of your ribs, a flutter on your tongue, a flinch of wafer swallowed down with knock knock knock, your ribs locked tight, wings flap against the gun cocked here you learn, his fingers in your hair, long fingers warm, sun- browned and holy soft, held to your head, held to your mouth, a noise upon your lips, the lie that lies behind your teeth, knock knocking, green and brown and swallowed down with holy wine to flood the ribs and drown the flutter-wing of moth and mouth and mother Mary, mother may I, lay my head upon the ground, all green and brown, and where you found your open ribs like bony fingers reaching for the sky, knock knocking on the pearly gates, shut tight, you wait and bite your flapping tongue with bloody teeth, wing slick with knock knock knocking on your broken-finger ribs, red-brown, and every day you learn to lie anew
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All my life I've been trying to paint a beautiful, happy picture of my parents to show it to the world, but no matter how many times I search the whole house I can never find the colour yellow and everytime I disappoint them a little they break all my colour bottles and now I'm only left with the colour black.
{Sasha Alex Sloan, Older/ Nayyirah Waheed/ Rupi Kaur, Milk and Honey/ Taylor Swift, Seven/ Rupi Kaur, The Sun and Her Flowers/ Rupi Kaur, Milk and Honey/ Kellin/ Conan Gray, Family Line/ Conan Gray, Family Line/ ms.anonymous}
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rosepompadour · 4 months
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UPON A FROSTED STAR ...strung together with glitter and wishes.
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thepersonalquotes · 1 year
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Birds scream at the top of their lungs in horrified hellish rage every morning at daybreak to warn us all of the truth, but sadly we don't speak bird.
Kurt Cobain
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