#and the corpse in the grave belongs to an adult when the sister died when she was 9 so
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liarsweapon · 3 years ago
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what if auntie janie met auntie donna the hallucination master that made her gardener see his dead family before murdering him to show her devotion to miranda and is maybe 20 at most, aka met angie the doll made from the bones of donnas dead sister by their deceased nutty dad, try and change my mind capcom u cant
uncle fishy moreau, poor dude that just likes rom coms and cheese and none of his family likes him apparently even tho heis even flat out says its his job to keep fishy entertained
werewolf magneto nic cage unkie heisenberg, hes an engineer, i dont need to say anything else
@folkesange
#i think janies hair steadily gets longer each sketch lol#i didnt draw base lines i just went at it thats why its so rough im sorry it was just a funny thought lmao#bc when u posted a thing abt modor the other day i read it and i was like ‘omg donna did smthn similar’ n like#donna doesnt speak at all like i think shes autism coded and a selective mute like i am#she doesnt speak she uses her hallucination powers to talk through the bride doll she carries angie#that LOOKS like it was made from bone and one of the collectables collected from the game is from her little sister (maybe) grave#and the corpse in the grave belongs to an adult when the sister died when she was 9 so#since the flowers around their house cause insanity its more than likely that when her parents gave themselves to miranda for testing the#dad went crazy and dug up her sister and made angie and thats why donna felt such an attachment even tho she doesnt know its her sister#and when her parents died angie is all she could connect to people through ahe already was ‘shy’ but she couldnt talk at all afterwards (in#the japanese edition the american version says its a scar that they dont include in the game so idek capcom) but after the cadou and her#developing hallucination powers she can ‘talk’ but i dont think she actually talks i think she makes unthink she talks lol#she spread her infection to all her dolls too which is creepy shes creepy#she also has a giant ulcer on her face bc of the cadou so she wears a mourning gown and veil lol#heisenberg just wants to kill miranda for forcibly taking him from his family after essentially destroying them w her cult#and turning him into a subject and forcibly ‘adopting him’#but ironically despite claiming he hates his siblings which pmuch all the soblings claim to hate each other#except for donna they always refer to each other as siblings and always ALWAYS talk abt each other#its like real sibs its like oh we hate each other but also if u fite them were gon fite u#except heisy bc ethan killed heisys sibs and he did give ethan like a five second chance to join his side before he threw him in with a#drill to get wrecked lol#how heisenberg got control of the lycsns that MOREAU made i will never lnow or understand#why he has mass nicolas cage energy i will also bever know or understand#i forgot what i was originally gonna say#i have a lot of feelings about this game#also the game has a lot of things that could be useful aesthetic images for janie tbh#granted its mold in the game not ether but capcom doesnt know what mold is suppised to#move like so you wouldnt be able to tell#out.
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astralmorganite · 8 years ago
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3.3.2017 - Vows
Often I find myself wondering what I might write about the next time I get a chance to blog. While out and about my daily life, I can typically narrate the introduction paragraph in my head, regarding a few different topics. But it always seems that once I am sitting here, with tumblr open and ready to go, my mind suddenly draws a blank. It’s as if I suddenly realize that I had nothing to discuss beyond the introductions to certain topics, so I drop the idea entirely and then spend my time blankly staring into my empty post until I think of something better. But then that supposedly better topic becomes devoid of interest for one reason or another, and it all starts again. Part of me thinks this is just another manifestation of my depression; the lack of interest and the ability to give up quickly is telling. But perhaps I still have a chance to save the integrity of this blog post. 
It’s March now, which means we are inching ever so closely to the big wedding day. Lately I’ve had to remind Parker that he needs to work on writing his vows, not because he doesn’t want to, but because he’s not very good at remembering to do things. We may be hiring an ASL interpreter for our ceremony, which means our vows need to be done a little sooner than later so the interpreter can go through them. I think Parker thinks he may have more time than he does to work on them, but while I sit here and somewhat chastise him, I must painfully admit that I have not quite worked on mine either. That is to say, I haven’t worked on mine on paper. I have done a lot of thought about how I want to write my vows; the format by which I pledge myself to him. I’ve come up with a theme, and a general outline of how I think it will turn out, but I have yet to actually pen the words I want to say. 
I’ve decided the theme of my vows is going to be about choice. I spent a lot of time evaluating what made our relationship different, especially considering that about this time last year we were preparing for Parker’s sister to get married. In her wedding, she and her now-husband talked a lot about how they considered each other god-given blessings; that through their religious convictions, they had become worthy of each other. Personally, I don’t subscribe to this ideology in the slightest. Whether or not God exists does not change how I behave in my day-to-day life, and I don’t consider most of the sins of Mormonism to actually be problematic at all, therefore rendering their “worthiness” tests to be rather insignificant to me. But I found the common belief between them touching, and the idea of being fated to someone has always felt romantic to me. However, I find it more and more difficult to believe in some kind of fate guiding my life. I remember as a teen, it was much easier for me to identify with supernatural beings, but now it just seems improbable and illogical. But I did come upon a personal revelation regarding what I DO find equally romantic, and logical. This was the notion of individual choice, the idea that out of millions of people, Parker chose me. 
Okay, well, more realistically he chose me out of thousands of local users of the dating site we met on, but the point still stands. Every day is a choice; there is nothing forcing us to be there for each other but our own personal drive to be what the other person needs. Parker currently has no obligation to put my life above anyone else’s life, but he chooses to honor me. And the same applies from me to him; I don’t have to be there, but I choose to be there. I choose to make his day better, I choose him before all else. And to me, it is the greatest honor to be both his secret keeper, and the recipient of his affections. 
I intend to expand upon this when I write my actual vows, but I like this concept. It reminds me of a moment in the TV show, Rick and Morty on Adult Swim, where Morty confronts his sister, Summer. In this scene, Summer is upset over her parents’ marriage, and the implication that her birth ruined them, so she attempts to run away. Morty approaches her with the comforts of logic, saying to her:
Morty: That, out there, that's my grave.
Summer: Wait, what?
Morty: On one of our adventures, Rick and I basically destroyed the whole world, so we bailed on that reality and we came to this one, because in this one, the world wasn't destroyed and in this one, we were dead. So we came here, a- a- and we buried ourselves and we took their place. And every morning, Summer, I eat breakfast twenty yards away from my own rotting corpse.
Summer: So you're not my brother?
Morty: I'm better than your brother. I'm a version of your brother you can trust when he says "Don't run." Nobody exists on purpose, nobody belongs anywhere, everybody's gonna die. Come watch TV.
This moment is so critical to me. Throughout my life, I’ve comforted myself through believing that I had a significant purpose, like I was cosmically significant in some way that just hadn’t manifested yet. In my early teens, it helped as a significant motivator to move past my suicidal thoughts; I have to stay alive, I have a purpose to fulfill! But I have learned the last few years how damaging that mindset was to me in the long run. I feel grateful that these ideologies got me through high school, but once I graduated, it felt as though it was time for my significance to burst through me. It never came. That moment of suddenly finding my place in the world never happened. It wasn’t as if I wasn’t trying; I attempted to follow Mormon rhetoric and strictly followed a Mormon lifestyle for a long time. But when no relief came, I soon realized that I was living for the church’s benefit, not my own. Of course they benefit from me proselytizing and paying tithing. But I was no longer benefiting myself. I soon found resources that proved the Mormon church was lying to me, and decided for myself that the church was provably false. I broke off an engagement that would have led me to the Mormon Temple, and never looked back. 
And since then I’ve learned to find meaning in insignificance. It’s true that in the context of that scene, Morty has concrete proof that multiverses exist. He has seen how insignificant his life decisions have led him; every choice he could possibly make has already been made on infinite numbers of other dimensions. He’s even met and interacted with other versions of himself before! How can he deny that he is just one of literally millions of outcomes that could have happened to him? In his mind, because all outcomes exist regardless of the actual choices he makes, his purpose is irrelevant. The version of himself that chose to commit horrible atrocities is the same Morty who stands before his sister. The Morty who would tell his sister that it’s ok, she has a purpose in life, also is the same Morty who tells her it’s ok to not have a purpose in life. This is only further evidence that if the choices are irrelevant, then there is no fated purpose to a single person’s existence. Ergo, nobody exists on purpose. However, in reality, it’s much harder to prove that multiverses exist, and that choices are widely irrelevant, except for in a cosmic sense. Speaking much more largely, aside from destroying our own planet, there isn’t really anything humanity can do to destroy the entirety of our Universe. The life choices of one individual does not change how the universe works, and even further does not even change how the Earth itself works. Nature will always be here, regardless of whether or not we sustain ourselves. For after humanity dies off, the Earth will still be here. Only by the inevitable heat-death of the sun will the Earth finally rest, but even then there is no human on earth who can stop that. 
Where was I going with this? Oh yeah.
Because our choices are irrelevant in the cosmic perspective, our cosmic purpose is non-existent as well. But just as Morty tells Summer not to run away from her life, we also cannot run. Just because there is no greater purpose for us, does not mean that we should spend our time in despair. It merely means that we must create our own purpose. Nobody belongs anywhere, but the place that you create for yourself. 
I have created for myself a space within the world Parker and I have constructed around us. Meaning comes from the things we do together, all of the good and all of the bad. It’s meaningful for us to cook dinner together, to play video games and to discuss and critique media. It’s meaningful to us to work through our mental illnesses together; to triumph over the darknesses in our lives. We have made meaning between each other by building up our history together, by always putting each other first, by spending our time together. 
It’s nice to have a place in the world, especially knowing it’s one he and I have created for ourselves. 
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