#at a certain point

[usefulquotes7]

At a certain point, I just have to try not too think to much about certain things, or else they’ll break my heart. Jonathan Franzen

[ravka-bracket]

Round 1B: Harshaw vs Oncat

[depressedwoman39]

i think at a certain point once it crosses the threshold of 1am and the money you got refunded from your MET that you get to keep ends up losing any value or sense and you spend 100 dollars on a mobile game because really god that last character you need to get all the legendaries will really make you happy this time and you're breathing heavily while you enter your card details and you know in your heart of hearts that this is a bad idea that this is one of those things you're supposed to fantasize about and then sigh and say god if i had a million dollars and just keep moving but you cannot keep your hands from moving and you are watching yourself make a bad decision and there is a new paralysis there not the kind that keeps you in bed and from applying yourself in school but the kind that keeps you from making the right decision the kind that keeps you away from those self destructive tendencies but you cannot for the life of you start to stop yourself so you finish entering your card details and you get sickly sad and you start to vomit a little bit and you remember every awful thing you've ever done and it is gripping you in a way that no one has ever been held like before but you cannot for the life of anyone remember when it was not like this. and now you have meg in brawl stars. follow for more tutorials

[rosecoloredtarot]

Tumblr challenge: have a post about herbalism and no one brings up grapefruit or St. John’s Wort*

*obviously counter indications are important to know and both of these are common examples. But not every post about herbalism needs a list of beginner’s safety concerns. A very specific point does not necessarily need to be broadened.

[skipppppy]

Highkey one of the funniest parts of Gravity Falls is how obnoxiously close they come to revealing Ford’s existence in the early seasons but never do out of just. Cosmic levels of dumb luck

Episode 1 Stan nearly catches Dipper with the journal and it’s passed off as a gag about Gold Chains for Old Men magazine. In Time Travellers Pig they go back to the Shack 30 years in the past and miss Ford opening the door on them by literal seconds. In bottomless pit Mabel gives him a set of truth teeth that make him incapable of lying and he tells the twins TO THEIR FACES that he regularly commits massive tax fraud and if they had asked him to elaborate he would’ve told them who he was impersonating. In one of the shorts Dipper and Soos find a sentient omniscient mailbox that will answer any question in the universe, and right before they can ask it who wrote the journals Mabel shows it a video of herself snorting gummy worms and it kills itself out of disgust. The entirety of Dreamscaperers is them delving into the depths of Stan’s psyche, going through his memories, all while fighting his brother’s ex-boyfriend and it somehow just. Doesn’t come up. Bill never mentions him. Their grandpa Shermie never said anything. Their parents never said anything. Either the universe was conspiring to cover it up or they are genuinely all that oblivious

[rivalkieran]

HEARTBREAKING: character actually mildly interesting to think about but I Dont like their fans

[hammerandsickbro]

i do believe that if you have a r*pe kink, you should die. and i don’t think that’s unreasonable.

[littlemizzlinguistics]

Studying linguistics is actually so wonderful because when you explain youth slang to older professors, instead of complaining about how "your generation can't speak right/ you're butchering the language" they light up and go “really? That’s so wonderful! What an innovative construction! Isn't language wonderful?"

[tofixtheshadows]

I've been thinking a lot lately about how Kabru deprives himself.

Kabru as a character is intertwined with the idea that sometimes we have to sacrifice the needs of the few for the good of the many. He ultimately subverts this first by sabotaging the Canaries and then by letting Laios go, but in practice he's already been living a life of self-sacrifice.

Saving people, and learning the secrets of the dungeons to seal them, are what's important. Not his own comforts. Not his own desires. He forces them down until he doesn't know they're there, until one of them has to come spilling out during the confession in chapter 76.

Specifically, I think it's very significant, in a story about food and all that it entails, that Kabru is rarely shown eating. He's the deuteragonist of Dungeon Meshi, the cooking manga, but while meals are the anchoring points of Laios's journey, given loving focus, for Kabru, they're ... not.

I'm sure he eats during dungeon expeditions, in the routine way that adventurers must when they sit down to camp. But on the surface, you get the idea that Kabru spends most of his time doing his self-assigned dungeon-related tasks: meeting with people, studying them, putting together that evidence board, researching the dungeon, god knows what else. Feeding himself is secondary.

He's introduced during a meal, eating at a restaurant, just to set up the contrast between his party and Laios's. And it's the last normal meal we see him eating until the communal ending feast (if you consider Falin's dragon parts normal).

First, we get this:

Kabru's response here is such a non-answer, it strongly implies to me that he wasn't thinking about it until Rin brought it up. That he might not even be feeling the hunger signals that he logically knew he should.

They sit down to eat, but Kabru is never drawn reaching for food or eating it like the rest of his party. He only drinks.

It's possible this means nothing, that we can just assume he's putting food in his mouth off-panel, but again, this entire manga is about food. Cooking it, eating it, appreciating it, taking pleasure in it, grounding yourself in the necessary routine of it and affirming your right to live by consuming it. It's given such a huge focus.

We don't see him eat again until the harpy egg.

What a significant question for the protagonist to ask his foil in this story about eating! Aren't you hungry? Aren't you, Kabru?

He was revived only minutes ago after a violent encounter. And then he chokes down food that causes him further harm by triggering him, all because he's so determined to stay in Laios's good graces.

In his flashback, we see Milsiril trying to spoon-feed young Kabru cake that we know he doesn't like. He doesn't want to eat: he wants to be training.

Then with Mithrun, we see him eating the least-monstery monster food he can get his hands on, for the sake of survival- walking mushroom, barometz, an egg. The barometz is his first chance to make something like an a real meal, and he actually seems excited about it because he wants to replicate a lamb dish his mother used to make him!

...but he doesn't get to enjoy it like he wanted to.

Then, when all the Canaries are eating field rations ... Kabru still isn't shown eating. He's only shown giving food to Mithrun.

And of course the next time he eats is the bavarois, which for his sake is at least plant based ... but he still has to use a coping mechanism to get through it.

I don't think Kabru does this all on purpose. I think Kui does this all on purpose. Kabru's Post Traumatic Stress Disorder should be understood as informing his character just as much as Laios's autism informs his. It's another way that Kabru and Laios act as foils: where Laios takes pleasure in meals and approaches food with the excitement of discovery, Kabru's experiences with eating are tainted by his trauma. Laios indulges; Kabru denies himself. Laios is shown enjoying food, Kabru is shown struggling with it.

And I can very easily imagine a reason why Kabru might have a subconscious aversion towards eating.

Meals are the privilege of the living.

[pangur-and-grim]

Hope you don’t mind unsolicited kitty cat pictures of my new worm-beast! Forcibly reminding myself that randombred cats can look like anything and that this elongated fella I found living at the local zoo is not in fact an oriental-type/lemur hybrid.

I'll be honest, this is the first cat I've seen that could actually be a Balinese cross.

if you'd only shown me the first photo, I would have 100% believed that was a Balinese. the fur and body type are so specific. and then the last photo couldn't be a Balinese (because of the white spotting), but I'd still believe it was an Oriental Longhair.

it's only the second photo that made me go oh......that's not quite right.....that's not how that should look.........

so I'd say the possibilities are:

you found a cat that has coincidental similarities to a Balinese/Oriental (cool!! awesome cat! the breed had to get the traits from somewhere, makes sense!)

you found a badly bred Oriental Longhair with a wonky face (not likely, OLHs are rare and tend to have a more standardized show-type appearance)

you found a Balinese cross (cool!! awesome cat!)

in any case, they are very beautiful and I'm an admirer of their special white stripe.

[unpretty]

not keeping an ad-free tier is bonkers imho, it was at a perfect price point where you could say, "yeah sure that's not too much money" and spring for it even if you didn't actually need it (i've got adblockers on desktop and mobile, i'm never going to see an ad regardless). hell. they could have let ad-free subscribers get grandfathered in at their older price and then announced the change in advance. people would have RUSHED to get the lower price point locked in. instead... this.

[muggle-born-princess]

Reblog if you're LGBT and are against MAPS/Child Groomers

[hyperdragon97]

Yep, that's Rachel

[depressedwoman39]

at a certain point once your vape dies and it's late enough at night and you've already spent too much time wondering about if picking up smoking would be less stressful (not necessarily healthier) for you the mounting toll of being 976.9 miles away from your boyfriend and lacking the sufficient dopamine reward from sucking down fruit flavored vapor tears begin to well in your eyes and it gets really really hard to see for a moment and it's stressful because you're watching one of your favorite shows but it occurs to you that you were watching this with your boyfriend and now you're wondering if it's immoral to rewatch the episodes in a different order because you just needed that tonight and you aren't getting enough sleep and you're 76.2% sure that you're bipolar and you just want it to get better but the ceiling fan keeps clanging the way ceiling fans do and the laptop is making some lovely colors through the welling of your tears and you forget you were so very deeply sad for a second until the tears roll down your cheeks and you can see the screen again and you just start thinking about how much easier it would be if he was here to watch it with you

yknow?

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[a-sketchy]

in commemoration of reload, here’s the full hamuko paintover from november