apollos-lyr3

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this is a Nazca ceramic vessel from the ica region of Peru made anywhere between 200 bce and 600 ce but don't you feel like you could log on to any website today and see this face as someone's avatar. pre-Columbian rantsona

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when i was a teenager it felt very revolutionary to be cruel to myself. like some kind of slow passive protest against how much everything hurt. i starved myself of sleep and food and tenderness because it felt right. it felt sharp and angry and radical and i wanted to be those things. adulthood is the realisation that the world is already working to cut into you well before you learn how to do it yourself. caring for yourself and others is the real protest

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God, the platonic tension is crazy. They wanna be friends so bad.

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"immortality sucks because all your friends die" all your friends die anyway. those we do not mourn are those who mourn us.

"immortality sucks because you forget who you are" we always forget who we are. do you remember who you were at four years of age? who you were at fourteen? "who i am" is a shadow cast on the wall.

"immortality sucks because" skill issue. skill issue. skill issue. give me your liver

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idk if anyone did this already- but since its sort of an already old-ish (?) trend i decided to draw Yancy with it HJDSHJ

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BARRICADE DAY 2024

 Citizens, in the future there will be neither darkness nor thunderbolts; neither ferocious ignorance, nor bloody retaliation. As there will be no more Satan, there will be no more Michael. In the future no one will kill any one else, the earth will beam with radiance, the human race will love. The day will come, citizens, when all will be concord, harmony, light, joy and life; it will come, and it is in order that it may come that we are about to die.”

- Les Miserables, “Saint-Denis”, Book XII, chapter VIII.

You know I have to quote that, it's perhaps my most favourite quote ever from Enjolras.

Well, in honour and spirit of Barricade Day 2024, I hope that I might be able to direct your attention and perhaps a bit of resources to help me raise fund for these 3 Palestinian families that I've been helping with in fundraising.

Even if you're able to donate the least of one cup of coffee then pass the torch, reblog to another, that'd be grand. Helps are greatly appreciated!

Here are the links to their GFMs:

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Gold ring with green glass bezel, Italy, 15th century

from The Victoria & Albert Museum

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New drinking game:

Type ‘archaeologist aesthetic’ into Pinterest and drink every time you:

see something romanticising colonialism;

say, ‘that’s not archaeology, that’s palaeontology.’

Warning: do not play unless you have a stomach pump on standby.

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Proof of life! Sorry that chapter 4 is taking me so long, college is unfortunately a pain that leaves me little to no time to write My Sillies. Please take this Indy and Illy conversing as a treat and apology for chapter 4 taking so damn long.

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i have hired this fucking thing to stare at you

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Illinois <3 He’s searching for something, only god knows what.

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Just poppin' in to tell you that I love ambitious for a juvenile, its one of the only Illinois and Indiana crossovers and its my favorite

Oh my god thank you?? This almost made me cry… I promise that I’ll update the fic soon, but college is kind’ve kicking my ass </3 Just know that I’ve certainly NOT abandoned the fic !! I have too many ideas rattling in my brain to leave it

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With apologies to the entire archaeological community

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I got to hold a 500,000 year old hand axe at the museum today.

It's right-handed

I am right-handed

There are grooves for the thumb and knuckle to grip that fit my hand perfectly

I have calluses there from holding my stylus and pencils and the gardening tools.

There are sharper and blunter parts of the edge, for different types of cutting, as well as a point for piercing.

I know exactly how to use this to butcher a carcass.

A homo erectus made it

Some ancestor of mine, three species ago, made a tool that fits my hand perfectly, and that I still know how to use.

Who were you

A man? A woman? Did you even use those words?

Did you craft alone or were you with friends? Did you sing while you worked?

Did you find this stone yourself, or did you trade for it? Was it a gift?

Did you make it for yourself, or someone else, or does the distinction of personal property not really apply here?

Who were you?

What would you think today, seeing your descendant hold your tool and sob because it fits her hands as well?

What about your other descendant, the docent and caretaker of your tool, holding her hands under it the way you hold your hands under your baby's head when a stranger holds them.

Is it bizarre to you, that your most utilitarian object is now revered as holy?

Or has it always been divine?

Or is the divine in how I am watching videos on how to knap stone made by your other descendants, learning by example the way you did?

Tomorrow morning I am going to the local riverbed in search of the appropriate stones, and I will follow your example.

The first blood spilled on it will almost certainly be my own, as I learn the textures and rhythm of how it's done.

Did you have cuss words back then? Gods to blaspheme when the rock slips and you almost take your thumbnail off instead? Or did you just scream?

I'm not religious.

But if spilling my own blood to connect with a stranger who shared it isn't partaking in the divine

I don't know what is.

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adjacent advice: if you need more confidence, get a cool jacket or a haircut or something and think about how cool it makes you. this is loser advice, but we're all losers here. swallow your pride and roleplay as a cool guy and you'll become a cool guy.

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Yo take your time on updating. The real ones will wait patiently (probably not quietly, I’m chewing the bars on my enclosure tbh). Anyways you got this! Good luck since college started back <3

This is so sweet??? Thank you??? I’ll try to throw you scraps into your enclosure until I can finish the full chapter <3