6.
Here we go. Only a 4-day week this week because I've got an assignment to write that I'm spending the weekend doing. Honestly, I'd rather be teaching. I hate academic writing.
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Looking for academic articles on JSTOR be like:
What you WANT to search: "Representations of Sexuality in 19th century France"
What JSTOR, for some unfathomable reasons, puts in the FIRST PAGE of results: "The Inherent Homophobia Of Agricultural Machineries Used in Sixteenth-century Indonesia"
JSTOR, What the fuck, man?
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sometimes i think of that one quote. a quote, was it? i'm certain it was a post, really, perhaps here or elsewhere—but it was something about how we are a medley of all the people we have ever met, and how we come to carry a little piece of everyone that comes in and out of our life, whether to stay or merely in passing. we bear a mirror shard of memory from each person we have ever loved, hated, called a friend, so on.
and i remembered something.
when i was younger (i'm not so old so as to be saying that, but it's true that i was younger then), and i was all over roleplaying with people online and meeting new names—in what were probably not the best spaces, i found out later on—i had a thing i would ask. nothing much, really, a harmless question yet one that for one reason or another i would find myself bringing up under the pretense of getting to know someone a little better, but still a question.
it was about their favourite song, i think. that, or maybe a song they perceive to be about themselves, but maybe it was more of the former.
either way, i'd gotten a plethora of answers, the songs of which i could not remember the titles of but could still remember in vague recollections, and in the off and rare chance i still come across the artists who performed those songs i still think of those now-nameless people i had once called friend.
hey. i still carry a piece of you. to one: i hope you're doing well; to another, i hope that you finished college. the other shapeless—i hope you found a promotion at work. another: i hope love worked out well for you.
i'd left a lot of people walking forward, or perhaps inevitably it was them whose paths divulged from mine, but hey, i still think of you. i know you liked this thing, and i know you were really fond of this one anime. and i don't really think i have the heart to think negative in any sense of these ghosts from years passed, but i still remember.
i hope you're taking care. i hope you're well. i still remember.
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Former gifted child, aka I'm an only child and always have had good grades, so now my mum is convinced I can get into doctoral studies with no publications or conferences under my belt, and I am very much fully aware that it is Not Possible. I can never live up to whatever image of me she's got in her head! That person never existed!! This is no longer grade school!! Whoop whoop!!
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Idk like we all have baggage that we bring with us when we view media. For example, my biggest pet peeve is when people put words in my mouth. Which means that when Sam does his armchair psychology thing on Dean or when he accuses Dean of not trusting him/thinking he's evil/whatever other negative thought Sam has about himself and Dean's expression clearly shows that Dean doesn't think that and he thinks that Sam is being ridiculous, I kind of want to bash Sam's head in. But, like, that's my own shit, and I would never go on tumblr and write a ten page essay claiming that Sam is a gaslighting narcissist who tries to abusively police Dean's emotions. And I wonder what sort of experience and mindset would lead to someone doing so.
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i should cave and make little media analysis zines in general bc i’ve always wanted to but video essays are too much work and feel a bit too forward facing? ig? i feel like it puts a lot of pressure on you. and text essays are fun but with a zine it could be an essay AND images. Best of both worlds <3
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