"My true friend," she said, in a faint voice, but with untellable pathos, "My true friend, and his! Oh, guard him, and give me peace!"
Lucy’s final words— spoken with her literal dying breath— were a plea to Van Helsing to save her love. She asks that he protect Arthur from her— to protect him from what she is becoming. And finally, she asks that he give her peace. Maybe it’s peace of mind, knowing Arthur will be safe, or maybe it’s the peace of finally being given over to Death. I only hope that Death can keep her.
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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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When I talk about something bad I've experienced, Baked In to my experience as A Woman, I am not "making my little cousins feel like shit for being women", because I am talking in a space with, allegedly, adults. I am not bringing my problems to children in the first place.
That said, I don't HAVE to make my baby cousin feel bad, because she's already experienced sexual harassment in her life, and she's only 8, and doesn't even understand what any of it means yet.
And everyone in her family can try to instill confidence in her, and never talk about our bodies in a negative way. But she can still feel like she's too chubby, because she still goes to school, and talks to other kids and their parents, and still sees ads, and still watches tv. We can be positive, but we can't fix the root of the problem.
And I don't HAVE to tell trans women that "pain is a rite of passage", because that's not a Rule being enforced (by me), because I've already sat and listened to my friend complain about constantly shaving as a Baseline necessity and how it hurts her skin and she has to put makeup onto fresh cuts on her face because going out without a full face of properly feminine makeup would make her life worse, and being anything less than thin and lithe makes her "less feminine", and ALL the things that can make her "more feminine" are behind a paywall. And I can try to make her feel better, and I can hear her experiencing the tenfold version of problems I relate to, but I can't fix the root cause of her problems by just telling her not to complain.
Forcing happiness as a core personality trait for women is not the Girlboss Feminist move that you think it is, and no amount of gender euphoria in the world will make you immune to systemic oppression.
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One night at the Hotel, they're scrolling through HellFlix and Vaggie suddenly gasps.
Vaggie: NO FUCKING WAY! It's finally on here!
Charlie: What? You find a show you like?
Vaggie: Not just "like", this is the best show EVER! I've wanted to binge it with you for years!
Charlie: Oh, neat! So, what show is it? What's it about?
Vaggie: I got three words for you, babe. Xena. Warrior. Princess!
SHE WILL RULE IN HELL AT LAST! HER TV SHOW SHALL REIGN SUPREME IN THE HEARTS OF THE MOST DANGEROUS BEINGS IN HELL!!!!! there is just ONE worrying part to that though....
Charlie: "Wait, she kills the king of hell?"
Vaggie: "It's not a historically accurate show babe don't worry about it."
Charlie: "Still... now I'm picturing her murdering my dad. Not sure how to feel about it..."
Lucifer: (intensely eating popcorn behind them) "Well I'd feel GREAT about it!"
Charlie: "Wh- Dad!?"
Lucifer: "It would be an honor."
Charlie: "To be KILLED by her???"
Lucifer: "Of course! Look at her snarling war face! Look at her THIGHS-"
Charlie: "DAD!!!!!"
Vaggie: (sighing) "Wish I was king of hell so she'd murder me..."
Lucifer: "Poor Maggie." (pats her) "There there, maybe Xena- or Gabrielle might be better seeing as you've been cheering every time she comes on screen- maybe they'd agree to murder the princess consort of hell too?"
Vaggie: "I uhhhh- s-sir, me and Charlie, we're not-"
Lucifer: "Right yes of course! Future princess consort."
Vaggie: "Ffffffuture-?"
Charlie: "DAD HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT ABOUT XENA!? YOU ARE STILL MARRIED TO MOM!"
Lucifer: "Ohhh Char-Char.... Lilith would be FIRST in line for death at the hands of this warrior princess lady and her gal pal. Especially if they used those amazing thighs of theirs to-"
Vaggie: "Sir, please don't finish that sentence and ruin the best show in all creation for my girlfriend by adding more family trauma."
Lucifer: "Whoops! Gosh am I saying too much now? Oh golly, my bad my bad, ha ha ha!"
Charlie: "...."
Vaggie: "Sweetie? Wanna switch the show off for a while?"
Charlie: "....actually, Vaggie..."
Vaggie: "?"
Charlie: "... D'you think we could get a Xena costume in your size?"
Lucifer: (jaw drops)
Vaggie: "Hhhhh... I- yeah, probably? I mean.... this is hell, and her outfit is mostly leather, so...."
Charlie: "Would you wanna wearrrrr it~?"
Lucifer: (drops popcorn)
Vaggie: "Do you even have to ask?"
Charlie: "Mmmm heheh- but I like setting a good example, and you know I loooove it when people ask~"
-THUD-
Charlie: "ohshitballsdickfuck- DAD-"
Vaggie: "Hostia!"
Lucifer: "IM FINE! AHAHAHA"
Charlie: "Dad- dad im so SORRY i forgot you were here-!"
Lucifer: "NO NO I HEARD NOTHING AND AM A-O-KAYYY!!!!"
Charlie: "You fell face first onto your own cane! You're BLEEDING!"
Lucifer: "Everything is fine! Once I've been sick into this bag of popcorn i will be extra specially FINE and our little impromptu family tv night together is going SO SPLENDEDLY WELL, isn't it Maggie!?"
Vaggie: "Ajo y agua..."
Charlie: "VAGGIE HELP- THE BLOOD??"
Vaggie: (sighing) (smiling) (standing up)
Vaggie: "...I'll go get the first aid kit."
-silly bonus-
Niffty: (from under couch) "I'll trade you the first aid kit for a vile of his bloooooood~~"
Charlie, Vaggie, Lucifer: (screaming and jumping on the couch and clinging to each other in terror)
Niffty: "Don't worry!" (giggles) "It's just for my Collection~"
Charlie, Vaggie, Lucifer: (screaming LOUDER)
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oh also one thing that i realized just now: qbagi’s initial suspicion over what’s happening to qphil being tied to the federation is technically not wrong
you know what drew qphil’s deities’ interest to him and quesadilla island? the birdcage. rose said in her earliest message ”I could sense the bleeding heart of the one I once knew, far, far away”. the deities noticed qphil had disappeared, and maybe they were curious to know what had happened, but the thing that drove them to find him was rose’s want to help him. and if she really was the one that freed him from the cage (and it’s heavily hinted she was), that birdcage undeniably was the thing that launched all of this into action.
how the enderking figured out that qphil had been weakened? we don’t know, maybe he sensed it, maybe he had already been observing him, maybe he noticed rose leaving to look for qphil, it doesn’t really matter. what does matter is that the trauma qphil got from being locked in that cage is what gave the enderking the perfect opportunity to strike. and is what led us to where we are now in the story. so even thought the federation isn’t ultimately the one tormenting qphil right now, it can still all be traced back to them and their continual abuses of power :)
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