onaspacewalk

[onaspacewalk]

Beyond Evil crack 1/?

DILF (in which the D stands for Dongsik)

[onaspacewalk]

Does anybody have that image of what cyberpunk dialogue is like. "to crack a cyber lemon this nasty" or whatever

[onaspacewalk]

Senpai says you’re welcome

[onaspacewalk]

bungus

[onaspacewalk]

If you somehow needed a reminder that we live in a completely fucked up world..

Fourteen of the sixteen electronic components are made by American companies. The rest are Swiss, Chinese, Malaysian and Taiwanese. China imports all this.

[onaspacewalk]

my trick for getting through grad school is learning to navigate the quadrants with all their nuances

[onaspacewalk]

Your legally married spouse is the one person in the world that you get to choose, who doesn't have to witness against you in court. So if you're thinking of marrying someone, consider these two questions:

Do I trust that this person would 100% help me hide a body, no questions asked?

Do I trust this person enough that if they asked for my help to hide a body, I wouldn't hesitate?

[onaspacewalk]

Needle - Serhiy Zhadan - Ukraine

Translator: Amelia M. Glaser and Yuliya Ilchuk (Ukrainian)

Anton, age thirty-two. Status: ‘living with parents’. Orthodox, but didn’t go to church, finished college, took English as his foreign language. Worked as a tattoo artist, had a signature style, if you can call it that. Lots of folks from our local crowd passed through his skilful hands and sharp needle. When all this started, he talked a lot about politics and history, started going to rallies, fell out with friends. Friends took offence, clients disappeared. People got scared, didn’t get it, left town. You feel a person best when you touch her with a needle. A needle stings, a needle stitches. Beneath its metallic warmth the texture of a woman’s skin is so supple, the bright canvas of male skin’s so stiff. Piercing that outer shell, you release the body’s velvet beads of blood. Carve, carve out angels’ wings on the submissive surface of the world. Carve, carve, tattoo artist, for our calling is to fill this world with meaning, to fill it with colours. Carve, tattoo artist, this outer lining, which hides souls and diseases – all that we live for, all that we will die for. Someone said they shot him at a roadblock, in the morning, a weapon in his hands, somehow by accident – No one knew what happened. They buried him in a mass grave (they buried them all that way). His possessions were returned to his parents. Nobody updated his status. There will come a time when some bastard will surely write heroic poems about this. There will come a time when some other bastard will say this isn’t worth writing about.

[onaspacewalk]

[onaspacewalk]

I remember this story mom told me and my sister when we were little. Two frogs fall into a milk churn, and start swimming to stay on the surface. After a long time, one of the frogs tells the other that it's tired of swimming, and is just going to give up now. The frog sinks and drowns, while the other frog keeps swimming. Eventually the surviving frog that never gave up has been swimming for so long that the milk has been churned into butter, and the frog can hop out. The moral of the story is that life feels hopeless a lot, but if you give in to despair, you fucking die.

I had two aunts from my father's side. I don't remember anything about one of them, she died when I was three years old. We were never lied to about how it happened. She killed herself, jumped out of a window. She gave in to despair. My paternal grandmother lost her mind over the grief, developing dementia overnight. I never knew her as a sane, coherent person. She gave in to the despair. That's what I was taught, that's how I was raised. Life is pain, but if you give in to the despair, you fucking die.

I am an optimist. Always have been. I had to be. Indulging in pessimistic fatalism was a luxury that I could not afford. I'm not an optimist out of some naive lack of awareness that life can be bad sometimes. I grew up very familiar with how bad life can be. I was an optimist in believing - against all the proof of the contrary - that life could be other things, too. That it's possible that there could be a life that doesn't hurt all the time.

I can't afford to be a pessimist. I don't pretend to believe that things will never get bad, but I have no choice but to believe that no matter how bad things will get, there can be good things in life, no matter what. I don't talk to my family anymore, but I did survive being raised by them. The ones who give up hope don't make it. If you let the darkness seep in, and give in to despair, you die.

[onaspacewalk]

good things will happen 🧿

things that are meant to be will fall into place 🧿

[onaspacewalk]

as an aroace person with limited sexual experience, no interest in watching porn, and poor sex ed as a teen, there IS something simultaneously funny and vaguely tragic about being 28 adult years old and realising how extremely tiny your frame of reference is for genitalia and deciding you should expand this to better understand bodies (yours and others). and then you're just there like "okay so what the fuck do I even google right now, anyway"

[onaspacewalk]

as an aroace person with limited sexual experience, no interest in watching porn, and poor sex ed as a teen, there IS something simultaneously funny and vaguely tragic about being 28 adult years old and realising how extremely tiny your frame of reference is for genitalia and deciding you should expand this to better understand bodies (yours and others). and then you're just there like "okay so what the fuck do I even google right now, anyway"

[onaspacewalk]

Change your beliefs, change your life.

I recently started doing something that feels really dumb at first, but... it's totally changing the way I view myself, y'all.

It's called Belief Work and basically, it's taking your old shitty beliefs and turning them on their head 100%.

So instead of "I will never make it," I now tell myself intentionally "I will definitely make it."

The process is simple:

List out all the negative beliefs you have about yourself, whether about work, relationships, money, life, etc.

On a second sheet, list the exact opposite belief.

These are your new sets of beliefs. Repeat them as often as you can remember, preferably once per day.

I KNOW IT SOUNDS LIKE BULLSHIT BUT I PROMISE YOU IT'S WORKING FOR ME SO MAYBE IT'LL WORK FOR YOU???

[onaspacewalk]

do you guys ever like forget you're interested in something until you start engaging with it again and you go "oh wait i'm like crazy crazy about this yeah"

[onaspacewalk]

but on the real though, here is your guide to assyrian rice preparation from your friendly neighborhood assyrian:

start wanting rice. (or, if you are traditional, simply recognize your constant desire for rice.)

measure out two cups of rice. then one more. then two more. then another. this seems fine. you love rice. there is no way that this will backfire on you.

remember that your great-great-uncle’s recipe says it should be soaked overnight.

become consumed with despair.

decide to soak it for half an hour instead, acknowledging that the final product will be inferior and anger your ancestors but will still satisfy your now almost-overwhelming need for rice to be inside your body much faster.

remember that you should have set the water to boil when you soaked the rice. goddammit. 

once the water boils, put the rice in until it is half-cooked. the eyeballing or intuitive method is less effective than a timer but that’s how your aunt does it so you feel compelled to meet her standards.

now that the rice has fluffed up, realize how much rice six dry cups really is. holy shit. you’ve fucked up immeasurably. 

take a minute to dwell upon your failings.

grease a baking dish with butter. this will never be as elegant as you want it to and your fingers will get greasy, but the slightly shameful, self-indulgent joy of licking your fingers afterwards will make up for it.

pour the rice into the dish. wonder immediately if you actually buttered the dish beforehand and if you’ve just fucked up. 

melt approximately one thousand pounds of butter in the microwave and pour it over the rice, pondering your imminent death from rapid-onset arterial clogging. put a small pat of butter on the top to properly gild the lily.

put your pan into the oven, which you have absolutely preheated after your previous lack of foresight. shake the rice once or twice while it bakes to make sure the butter is well distributed. resist the impulse to climb into the oven with the rice. for the last ten minutes, sit next to the oven and count the seconds until it’s done.

remove the dish from the oven. shed a tear or two at the perfection laid before you. if you are dining with others, this is the time to serve the rice while making passive-aggressive statements about how oh no, you don’t need any help, you just made dinner all by yourself, you can serve everyone as well. (this is still fun if done alone, but optional.)

CONSUME THE RICE.

realize that you have eaten half of the dish in one sitting. no matter how much rice you made, this will always happen. 

put the leftovers away, if there are any, and enjoy a cup of chai while marveling at the amount of food you have just eaten. if possible, fall asleep in an armchair, sitting up, head tilted slightly back, like a grandpa.

for the rest of the evening, think fondly of how much rice you have in the fridge now and how many meals it will supplement, refusing to acknowledge that you will almost certainly eat the rest of it in a few hours for a midnight meal.