#been thinking about this for a long time

[aroacechillzone]

I don't know if I've ever made a post on this topic before, but I'm going to do it anyways: Romance is a social construct.

What does this mean? Well, think about gender, which is basically a set of expectations of how to present, dress, and act. These expectations (such as shaving) are not inherent to biology, and differ across cultures and time. Romance is the same way. People in a romantic relationship are expected to act a certain way and do certain things, like holding hands or having sex. They are expected to feel a certain way about one another. And, just like gender, these expectations differ across cultures and time. In Europe, kissing friends on the cheek is a common greeting, but in the US that's seen as romantic. And in the past, the concept of "dating" as we know it didn't really exist.

Just like gender, this doesn't mean romance isn't "real." It just exists in the context of the society around it.

[kazu-naito]

[the-heaminator]

One thing that I've noticed that I desperately want to put into the pruk fic is Alfred and Matt knowing how to use public transport from the back of their hand cause they don't have a car a d have to go places themselves because Arthur's always busy. Like theyve got zip cards and everything

Compared to Ludwig who Gilbert's both overprotective over and well off enough to not really need to use it.

I've noticed that if you grew up relatively wealthy you've got no knowledge of how to use the public transport in your area BC you never needed it

[cyber-corp]

The real mystery of Homestuck is who was the person that sent GameBro a copy of SBURB

[rosecoloredtarot]

Thinking of opening up paid tarot readings and/or spellcraft consultation. Would anyone be interested? 👀

[bethorz]

Foo Thoughts - let's talk about Shifty's (old) song An Atheists Prayer

Chris's first Dead Peasants album was on my playlist a lot last year while I was deep in my Taylor feels (I say "was" like I am not anymore, sad lol). It's kind of moodier than any of Chris's stuff since, three songs in particular got a lot of play "Not Going Down Alone" which I have been convinced for years is about the Foo Fighters, "Death March" which fully made me cry a few times because it's so sweet and this one, "An Atheist's Prayer" which seems to be about wanting to help someone who is struggling but not being able to. For obvious reasons, that one hit different, despite being written in 2009ish and clearly being about a different situation. However, one night I was listening to it and something occurred to me that I had never considered before. What if it is actually about Taylor? specifically the London incident in 2001.

First, these are the lyrics (they are wrong in a few very key places anywhere I've seen them online)

It takes a tragedy, to get through to you and me It takes a tragedy, to see what’s next to me You went searching every road, but what were you looking for? Always a locked door, you chose to fight your secret war It’s temporary, that is all Hold you tight when you were falling Feels like you’ll sink forever, but when you blink, you’re coming up for air It takes a tragedy, to get through to you and me It takes a tragedy, to see what’s next to me Well, how many times was the gun to our head? But we never came up dead So close your eyes and we’ll cry for peace An atheist’s prayer will track for me⫮ It takes a tragedy, to get through to you and me It takes a tragedy, to see what’s next to me I wish I knew you better, I wish I would have been there I wish I knew you better, I wish I would have been there

⫮ this is the only line i am not 100% sure on but the last part is definitely "for me" and not "for free" as it is written on lyric sites

I'll point out that these are sadly pretty universally applicable and still just as poignant even if I'm way off. And also lyrics aren't necessarily about just one thing. I also don't mean this post to imply that I think that OD was T's COD, I really don't think it was, and this reading is independent of that. That said, lets see why this song might actually be inspired by Taylor.

The reason I had never made the connection before, is the last few lines (I wish I knew you better...) make it sound like the subject died. Which I had never really thought had tracked with other parts that were kind of hopeful. Or the "to get through to you and me" part. Much lesser so, the fact that he thought he might have not known them that well but was still affected enough to write the song.

But "I wish I knew you better" could also be in general (he still does wish that) OR in hindsight "I wish I knew you better [like I do now]". And I actually think this read makes the song hang together better.

It's not as talked about as much, because he was fortunate to avoid any sort of public incident like Taylor and flew more under the radar in the band in general - but young Chris, by his own admission, by early band interviews after he joined, and if a lot of his more recent song lyrics are anything to go by, loved to party. He seems like he tried all the drugs. He and Taylor were the younger guys and seemed to not show as much restraint as, say, Dave and Nate. They were both fans of the sex, drugs and rock'n'roll era of music and that lifestyle in a way that the others weren't. They were also both the only ones sober in more recent years. Even if they weren't super close (and I don't think they were, though I do think Nate, Chris and Taylor were closer then they get credit for, just from working together a long time and IMO doing most of the heavy lifting live) that (being sober in Dave Grohl's band) has to foster some sort of kinship/understanding.

It also makes sense, as the whole song is pretty much addressed to "you" and "our", which makes more sense if "you" is still around. I have always seen Taylor's OD as a wake up call for the whole band as young men. Dave has even said as much (it made him reach out to Jordyn). Additionally, I think, apart from Taylor, Chris probably needed it the most. And it seems like it worked, because it's when they all started settling down. Chris in particular seems like he was married/had his first kid by the end of 2003 or 2004 at the latest (his oldest started college in September 2022) after being flagged as the hardest partier in several early interviews.

All that to say, even if they weren't super, super, close, that would have have still be a very important milestone in his life. "I wish I would have been there" also kind of has the vibe of an AA mantra.

Regardless of the actual circumstances of the song can we talk about this devastating in hindsight line:

"How many times was the gun to our head, but we never came up dead"

Oof :(

I am aware could be way off, but there is not enough Foo Fighters content in the Foo Fighters tag so have a Sunday afternoon essay (you're welcome)

[jar-of-galaxies]

it's still real

[egophiliac]

still ruminating over Lost In the Book With Spooky Skeletons Part 1, so here's a selection of some of my favorite little bits! (...some more loosely paraphrased than others) (I just feel like Idia has no room to criticize in general, okay)

anyway, I'm sure we're just going to have a fun time celebrating Halloween and nothing bad is going to happen whatsoever! :)

[chloesimaginationthings]

I know Vanessa regret saying this in the FNAF movie,,

[munchy-k]

chiHUAHUA

[umblrspectrum]

happy solvermas

[messymoonmad]

ohhhh im blinking SO SO SO innocently at u for odyseidon food,,,,

(10* not 7)

Ody : just say that you missed me

Poseidon : DAMN IT JUST DIE ALREADY-

(You get tsundere poseidon. Happy ? )

[gascreates]

a new star

[originalartblog]

Don't forget to eat to keep the demons at bay

[starry-bi-sky]

on a completely separate note; shizun luo binghe with a disciple shen yuan who fell into the abyss??? *thinks about LBH canonically stealing SQQ's corpse for 5 years* he'd hallucinate i think. like, like visual and audial hallucinations.

Keeps thinking he's seeing SQQ in the corner of his eyes, or wandering between the trees, amongst a group of disciples. Thinks he hears him calling for him, but its just the wind or another disciple.

Gets Xiu Ya reforged but patently fucking refuses to make a sword mound. Because his disciple Is Not Dead :))) There was No Body. He's Not Dead. And If You keep Insisting That He Is, He's Gonna Skewer You :). He's holding onto Xiu Ya so he can return his most favored disciple's sword when he returns. It's on his hip right next to Zheng Yang where it's supposed to be.

Also this motherfucker?? does not sleep btw. He has the image of SQQ, wide eyed and hysterical and standing at the mouth of the abyss burned into his fucking eyelids. Can't use the dreamscape to escape it either because he keeps trying to save him and either he does and it's an incredibly cruel trick to wake up to, or he doesn't and he gets his heart broken in several different pieces again.

There is no convincing this man that Shen Qingqiu is dead. Absolutely nothing at all. He is buried so deep in denial that moles would be jealous of how deep he is. He keeps making tea for two in the bamboo house only to remember that it's just him. SQQ's fans are hiding everywhere, little reminders of his presence. He goes to wake up SQQ on the mornings he sleeps in-- only to find the room empty.

[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.