#loves desecting things

[wingsmadeforflying]

Guys I'm beyond close to drawing Rosekiller. The only thing really stopping me is my tablet is packed- I could draw without it but I also. Need to finish packing-

I'm steadily becoming more obsessed with the Absolute Freaks.

Side Note: I find the one post mentioning how Rosekiller was just waiting. For Reg to make their relationship into a trio then James Fucking Potter so fucking funny still and I think about it daily. Thank you whoever posted that.

[heartfullofleeches]

Ride or Die

Yan 🌽star + Stoner Reader

Summary: After a deal gone wrong, you text your roommate for help.

[Mentions of Weed]

-

Thursdays are pizza night.

It isn't much in the grander scheme of things, but to Brie it is the domesticity of the relationship blossoming between you. Not exactly just friends, yet still barely pushing the limits of the platonic bond you already shared before moving in. You've kissed him before, allowed him to sleep in your bed- Then again, the "kiss" was a conducting force for a mouthful of smoke you gave fair warning for him to prepare himself for; the night in your room being the outcome of him spitting up a lung moments later.

Brie didn't know what to do anymore.. Continue this little game of cat and mouse, praying somewhere deep down you feel the same way about him. Or move onto someone else, never able to give them the entirety of his heart because he knows a part of it will always belong to you.

"Why can't I cry anywhere else but the produce isle!" Brie bitterly whispers to himself as he swabs the corners of his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater. Your sweater to be more precise. He'd rather not have a repeat of last week- That sweet lady was only trying to console him, but his face gets red as the tomatoes he used for his sauce crying over what may never be.

Whatever.

As far as Brie was aware, you didn't have a partner nor anyone you were really interested in, and you practically told each other everything. Maybe somewhere along the line, he could find happiness in this in-between stage in your relationship. Even if you weren't his partner, he still had you as a shoulder to cry on and the best roommate he could ask for.

"Get over yourself, Brie- You're going to make them the greasts pizza they've ever had, and if they haven't already fallen in love with you - they'll met someone who's a shitty cook and realize what they're missing!"

Isn't that the dream? These days, it feels like you're the only thought on his mind. He can hear your voice now.

"Brie? Brieeeee~ Pick up or I'll use your full government. Heh, you know I'm messing with you. But, seriously, pick up."

Oh. That's... your ringtone. The message was one of the first voicemails you left him when he purchased a new phone. He's missed plenty of calls from you hearing it out to completion.

"You rang, babe?"

That got a good chuckle out of you the first time. It was a total blunder on Brie's end, but you insisted he keep the nickname if he wanted to. There's no jovial air coming from your end of the line. Not even a snicker as your voice picks up over the silence.

"I need your help."

Never in your years long friendship had he heard you sound so serious before. There were glimpses - swiftly desected by your infections laughter or the change of topic, but never like this.

"I'm, I'm on my way." Brie switches his phone over to his left ear, propping it up with his shoulder. "What's wrong? Are you sick? Did you hurt yourself?"

"I think I killed a guy."

The line goes dead.

Brie gazes upwards at the tiled ceiling, phone slipping from his grasp as his thumb hoovers where the end call button once was. He regains his grip on the device as a text message comes in.

Its a picture of the body. Sprawled out with their arms and legs angled in different directions.

He can't catch his breath. Brie has always tried to drill it into your thick skull he'd do anything for you no matter what - and he meant it. Taking someone's life... It's unforgivable in most people's eyes. Especially the law's. If you got caught. If he lost you- What would that mean for him? The future you had together?

Racing through the aisles like a chicken without its head, Brie makes several stops on his way to the cash register. Cleaning, household goods, cutlery. He grabs items as soon as they're checked out and stuffs them into his backpack as he pays, evading his ritual of fishing through his wallet for the exact cash and change.

Brie isn't crazy enough to run red lights. He does, however, forget his seatbeat as he floors his car home; flying just beneath the legal speed limit for the area. He speeds up the tiny flight of stares leading to your apartment - bursting through the already unlocked front door.

"Babe! Baby, in here- I brought bleach, and trash bags, and- and.... These knives should be sharp enough to cut up their limbs- We can even move closer to my parents if we have to!"

Tripping over his own words and feet, Brie dumps the the contents of his backpack on the living room floor. It's then he notices how clean the floor actually is. No blood stains, no evidence of a fight. His eyes search the room, falling upon you in an unbothered state - seated on the couch next to a shivering man nervously sipping from a glass of water.

"Brie!" Standing, you make short work of the distance between you as you swarm Brie with a firm hug. "Missed you, pretty boy. You're back a little sooner than I expected not gonna lie."

Adrenaline depleting, Brie points over your shoulder at the stranger. "I thought he was..."

"He? Oh, right!- Brie, this is Nicky. Nicky, this is Brie. He came to buy some of my stash since his med card just expired and he doesn't like buying full price. Normally I would've done it elsewhere since I don't want to bring strangers into your space, but he's heading out of town once he leaves.... If he still can."

Nicky offers a timid wave to Brie, placing his cup down seconds before collapsing on the couch.

"Don't worry, he should be fine after a little nap."

Air flows freely through Brie's lungs as he clings onto you. You aren't a murderer. There isn't anything jeopardizing things between you- besides himself.

"You're such a jerk."

Pulling away from your embrace, Brie was torn between slapping or kissing you as you grin back at him. "What? Didn't actually think I killed the guy, did you?"

"Yes?! Because of your little prank I wasn't able to get everything I needed for dinner! I was ready to throw my entire life away for you! And it's all just a big joke to you!"

"Thanks, Brie."

Tension building behind his eyes, a soft kiss to his forehead keeps the tears at bay just a little longer.

"It's nice to have someone I can depend on for anything. That's rare to come by these days. If you're ever in the same situation, but for real- you know who to call."

Sniffling, Brie rests his head on your arm.

"You're damn right I do."

[seasideretreat]

Possessions

We can't say there is anything in the world that we truly possess. Even if we have gotten something, we must admit that it was not gained by pure means. Let it be. The world of pain and misery that is this entire world, cannot be loved, but must be survived. Nonetheless, we do good things and we enjoy life sometimes, because we are relatively free.

I wonder if at times the world tells us things. We often hear people say that the universe is telling them things. Usually they will then point to silly accidents and terrific moments of anxiety. I heard the story of a fireman who was in burning building with his crew, when he suddenly felt an uneasy feeling and yelled: let's get the hell out of here - after which the entire building collapsed as soon as they were outside. You might call that intuition, or you might call it precognition. Still, there really isn't that much to do.

I am a wretch. In the totality of pure existence, the notional degrees of ordinary predisposition are way too vague to be understood, and it is all crazy and ideosyncratic; still, the necessity of normal things is weird, and we do what we can to achieve peace of mind. This is what we call: meritocracy.

What we see is that ordinary life really doesn't help us do anything. The essences of the world are insane and idiotic, and there isn't anything that we can do that might be helpful to some extent. Still, we do the occasional thing to liberate ourselves from the infinite abyss of pure existence, that makes us worried about the continuity of pure life, and the horrors of ordinary existence; this is a terrible situation, that makes us afraid of the nonsensicality of ordinary life, and supposes only the ideosyncrasy of normal things to be suppressive and dominating in the last analysis, of a constant thing that undermines our strict knowledge and makes us afraid of the common sensicality of normal behavior, behavior that roots itself in the ideosyncrasy of normal time, and dislocates the tendencies of normal behavior, which underlie the national dissention of normal desectment, or whatever. De-sectment, which is not a word, but I worry sometimes that my mind is going, and that I am no longer on the same page as my readership; of course, nobody reads these terrible posts, that go nowhere.

You know, I am now reminded of my course in Asian philosophy that I was taking on EDx (unfortunately I didn't get to finish it because my audit period ran out). It was a nice course, you know the kind that makes you suddenly get something that you never got before; you see, I've been reading Confucius for a long time now, but I never got what Li, ritual, ever really was, and now I do; so I am thankful.

It seems I have lost an important opportunity to do metaphysics today. However, that ain't all bad, because I had other things to say apparently. And at least we got to be stoic - that's always nice I suppose; you know, stoicism is a great step towards peace of mind; and I have some kind of peace of mind at this time.

[sleeplvssdreams]

So for my final piece of work in the University Art School I made this huge 3m print depicting my struggles of falling asleep during the night and not being able tro sleep until the sun comes up. I wrote just over 8000 words to go with it describing the meaning behind it all, referencing artists and showing my personal development, The whole thing took about 5 months from start to finish and I was extremely porud of it, as was everyone close to me.

After personal after person coming up and saying ‘wow I love what youve done here it’s a truly personal piece you should be proud of it’

One unknown guy, probably around 18-20 years old just walks up and stands next to me and says ‘ ahh awesome, you created a shooting stars meme’ and walked away!

The guy had literally just seen through 5 months of hard work and deep meaning and desected it into a shooting stars meme.

My entire final year of University is a lie.

[izzymackirdy]

E N D OF S E M E S T E R R E F L E C T I O N:

In ending this hectic semester I’m trying to reflect on what I’ve learnt and what I’ve achieved during this time. The tumblr blog is a huge help as you can physically see what both you and others have achieved, as well as the vast differences in outcomes for the same assignments.

The workshops and pracs provided lots of helpful and interesting activities which could be often collaborated on, something i found helpful. There were always so many different outcomes in every activity we did and i loved seeing the way others minds worked creatively to the same problem. This often helped with desecting new briefs which i know was sometimes a struggle to start with, whether having too many ideas or none at all, the collaborative environment created at RMIT and especially in this course allowed me and others to pool ideas on new briefs. In the lectures I’ve enjoyed furthering my knowledge on the history of design where it is covered and have learnt about many things in which i didn’t know even existed, such as the depth and detailed history behind blackletter.   Overall, i’ve learnt many things of which i can carry into the next semester of my communication design course and future projects in semester 2.