#but it applies to other things to

[annoying--moth]

The problem with writing about wise characters who make rational decisions is that I am unwise and love drama

[baristabomb]

...weird amount of dunmeshi fans have been saying being a caretaker in a relationship is the worst thing ever..marcille must want to killl everyone soo bad because doing things for people suuuucks sooo muchh

it's an act of love, not just a job i promise. we all want someone who's willing to take care of us in some way, just like how senshi shows care for others by cooking for them :'|

[defectivegembrain]

Not "I always knew I was different", not "I thought it was normal", but a secret third thing: it never occurred to me to think about whether it was normal until I was forced to, usually in a cruel way

[swordsonnet]

i'm sorry but i don't think we should call this the "autism website" when there's still posts with tons of notes mocking people who:

struggle with social skills / have anxiety around social settings

are unemployed / unable to work certain jobs

have intense or "age-inappropriate" interests

haven't had certain life experiences that are deemed universal/essential

struggle with personal hygiene

don't have any friends or dating experience

don't go outside much or at all

take things literally / don't get sarcasm/jokes

have unusual ways of speaking

generally aren't "normal"

[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.

[ancient-reverie]

a moment of silence for all us disabled ones who had to watch each of their friends move on with their lives without you and get jobs, go to school, have partners come and go, get engaged and move house etc.

shout out to my fellow struggling people who are still sitting in the same bedroom they grew up in. the ones who can't get a job, can't make new friends, can't find a partner or partners, can't move house and can't go to school.

I hope one day we can all find someone to at least sit with us in our rooms. I see you and I understand... and I'm sorry we can't be that person for each other

[heydrangeas]

I am trying soooo hard not to be annoyed with american leftists. like we get it, you are ideologically perfect and won’t compromise with anyone or take any action or donate your time or money to any material cause—but at least you post the Exact Right Things and hate everyone!! Phew!

[juney-blues]

"a system of oppression can exist but there can be no meaningful distinction between those who enforce it and those who are subject to it" is an absolutely incomprehensible take to have just so we're clear

[ilynpilled]

it frankly pisses me off that what is essentially “rapists and abusers should be depicted as monstrous caricatures because humanizing them is inappropriate” is considered a very moral and enlightened position to have on art by so many people. a rapist can feel pain, have moments of vulnerability, be amiable and charming, express remorse and compassion at times, be a victim themselves, and so on in real life. they are even capable of doing good things. they can have different sides to them and have individuals in their lives that they are kind to or have a decent relationship with. they will be a human being, and that fact encompasses a lot. conflating that with the claim that they are entitled to and deserve forgiveness or absolution is an issue. nurturing a mindset that believes they need to be one note and uncomplicated to be a correct and tasteful depiction of a rapist inadvertently falls in line with the logic of “how could they have possibly raped you? they are so normal and kind to me. they did all these good things here and there.” ok that doesn’t change that they are a rapist.

[humans-are-tasty]

my spread for @opdilfzine

[ruushes]

ive been enjoying artfight SO much it's rly energizing!! crops of my first three attacks: hamal mahariel for @ghostwise, ariya blackwood for @puffy-shirt, and connor delacy for @reddragoncrush 💙🩵💜

[weaponizedducks]

jesus fucking christ they were really writing that subtext with a neon pink highlighter weren't they

[dollarstorefern]

*cough* if you hate amber volakis i hate you *cough* (just kidding!) (i’m not.)

[2sw]

I know what it feels like, to feel like you don't belong. To feel like there's this darkness inside of you, to be scared of who you are, what you can do.

[cascadiums]

Jonathan Harker knocked me flat with this one. his speculation that vampirism spreads because people willingly follow their loved ones into damnation is so affecting. and it's an insight that's so uniquely him. the gothic heroine in him can see Dracula's world in a way the others seemingly can't. he can look at the situation without any concerns of rationalism, honour, god, or any other facet of Victorian society, and reach this truth: we will walk into any horror for love