#my mantra lately is

[iphigeniacomplex]

[It is abominable, unquenchable by touch] by Diane Seuss

It is abominable, unquenchable by touch, closer to the sublime than sentimental, more animal than hominid, I've seen it in the eyes of birds weaving on a stem of ragweed, voracious, singular, there is no one like me, Dickinson in her narrow bed, her cold clenched hands, her penmanship unreadable, even following a recipe for black cake, her black cake came out strange, lusher than the template, and every freak I ever met had that same look in their eyes, armless, threading a needle with their lips and teeth, legless, rounding a corner on their cerulean cart, monarchic, imperious, wild, sad, and like every virgin queen, the need for love revolting and grand.

[napping-sapphic]

Crazy how i’m not being kissed hard enough to forget everyone who has ever hurt me rn

[nicollekidman]

abby, sorry to get extremely real on a friday night but like how do you deal with feelings of environmental existentialism (for lack of a better term) that you may have. It feels like it's hit especially hard this week and I'm sure Tuesday is a factor in that but I do not enjoy the feeling, at 28, of time accelerating into an uncertain but generally unpleasant singularity, actually

i love this question because this is one of the biggest fears of my life because of my debilitating fear of death and yknow my general love for being alive and the people on this planet. the short term direct answer is that i often don't deal at all. i often feel sharp pain and edge into true panic until i distract myself, and looking at my weather app often makes me choke.

but the larger answer is that it's actually our responsibility not to (over)indulge in climate grief. we are not speeding headfirst, heedless and uncontrolled into a singularity. the trends are not good, the damage is making itself known, but things are never hopeless. there are thousands and thousands of human beings who have dedicated their lives to studying, remedying, and speaking out about the damage done to our climate. and there are solutions. there are breakthroughs every single day! succumbing to depressive existentialism is not only not helpful, but does actually ignore a lot of the progress that is being made! things are dire and have been dire but they are NOT hopeless.

i find that these feelings hit hardest when i have been the most isolated, and that they piggyback on feelings of despondency about other things i see going Wrong in the world (and there is a lot!). but everything is connected. finding ways to spend time with others, spend time outdoors, use your voice/money for Action (whether protesting, volunteering, working, even just having conversations with others), all these things ease the emotional burden. recognizing that everything feels #unprecedented because we are more connected to global information than any other time in history while simultaneously becoming increasingly isolated and individualized helps ground the feelings in context in a way i find helpful.

climate grief is inexorable from grief over genocide, capitalism, racism, misogyny.... everything is connected. and just as we have the privilege and responsibility of never giving into the urge to hide away from any of the other things, taking action and feeling connected to community around you makes fighting these things feel possible.

being alive is SUCH a gift and whatever the future holds is never a guarantee, even if the climate was exactly the same as it was when you were born. we are only given so much time, and the best way to experience literally anything other than terror and rage (i have found) is just to move outside my own self a little. to take a deep breath and sink my toes into the earth and try to remember there are so so so many people making both incremental and massive change every day, and that giving up on someone you love before they die is never the right choice. we can always do something, and/or amplify those who are.

and sometimes? it's a simple as calling it quits on the scrolling and just creating something, even just. cooking. or watering a houseplant. or closing your eyes and singing as loud as you can while crying. you know?

(if i remember tomorrow i will link some pieces about dealing with climate grief/hope, because it actually does help that everyone who works in the field is absolutely uniform in saying outlandish extenstial dread is not a useful space to live in)

[roseflowerthorns]

Social anxiety trick -

Tell yourself your just a brain in a meatsuit. It will stop you feeling perceived.

Your welcome 😁👍

[mag200]

you’re alive on earth once and for what? to act normal???? be fucking serious

[blood-mocha-latte]

happy post-birthday to the darling lenora @mutantmanifesto!!! i'm late, because of Course i am, but enjoy!! full confession, this is a spin-off of another wip universe, but it is very much Silliness and lots of luz :)))

George is late, because he overslept, because of course he did, because he always inherently knows the worst times of the year to be late.

It’s space day.

“Fuck,” He mutters to his closet, then again to his dresser. All of the drawers are open, and the closet’s door is awry. Giving up on finding it by himself, he pokes his head out of his bedroom door to shout at his roommate. “Joe!” He yells, and when he hears Toye faintly grunt from the living room, he swears again. “Hey, Joe, have you seen my Galileo costume?”

Even though he can barely hear it, Toye’s sigh seems long-suffering. 

“Why the hell would I know where your Galileo costume is?” He shouts back, and George throws his hands up in the air, dropping down to his knees to look under his bed again.

“I kind of need it!” He yells. It’s not under the bed. “It’s space day!”

He has half a mind to go root through Joe’s room, but decides he likes life more than Galileo. He still considers it, though. 

When he finally emerges from under the bed Toye’s standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, looking entirely unimpressed. Noticing that he’s very steadfastly not helping, George rolls his hand over in a hurry up gesture. 

“C’mon, I still gotta glue on the beard, too.” He says, impatient. Then, after a moment, “Son of a bitch, I bet you dollars to donuts Babe has it. Christ, what kind of man steals another man’s Galileo costume? I bet he has my beard glue, too—”

George interrupts himself, too busy trying to excavate his phone from his back pocket. It takes him under a minute to call Heffron, and Joe just stays in his doorway, watching him, impassive.

The moment the receiver clicks George starts talking. “Do you have my Galileo costume?” He demands, and Babe’s silent for exactly half a second.

“Well, yeah.” He says, like it’s obvious, and George shoves his phone between his ear and shoulder so he can make a throttling gesture. Joe raises an eyebrow. “It’s second-grade space day.”

George throws his hands up in the air. “It’s space day for the fifth graders, too!” He exclaims. Babe huffs.

“Yeah, well, too bad, first dibs—”

“First — what? It’s my costume! I’m the one who bought it!”

“Well, have you ever heard that sharing is caring? That’s a very important thing—”

“Babe, I am going to set you on fire—” 

Babe hangs up on him. 

George lets his hands drop to his sides and throws his phone onto his bed.

“I’m guessing Babe has it, then.” Joe says, deadpan. George sighs. He’ll probably just have to go with Carl Sagan. Like a schmuck. 

“Two favors.” He says, which Joe technically can’t deny him, because George faked pneumonia last week so he didn’t have to go to a career party on a ‘roomate technicality’. “Can I borrow a turtleneck? And can you drive me to work?”

Joe ducks out of his doorway and back into the hall. “I’ll grab my keys.” He says over his shoulder, which George takes as permission to go look through his closet.

--

It’s not that George can’t drive, it’s that the state of Pennsylvania doesn’t think he can drive. 

“I’m just saying, this is why people don’t brake for birds.” Joe tells him, when they’re on the freeway. 

George, who’s scrolling through his phone at top speed looking for the best Carl Sagan jokes he can find (because he can’t use the Galileo ones now, can he?) just huffs.

“It looked like it had a broken wing.” He says, as he’s said a million times before. “And I didn’t want to kill it and get all its gross bird guts all over the place. It was the best option.”

“Sure.” Joe says, “but I’m not liable to believe you.” He flicks on the turn signal. George sighs. He’d complain more, but he can’t, because, well. Joe’s the only one who will take him to work.

“Hey, Joe.” He says after a minute, when they’re turning off the freeway. Joe just hums, which George takes as encouragement. “We’re made of stars and shit, you know what I’m Sagan?”

Joe is deathly silent, which isn’t promising. “You know you can say that to a room full of ten-year-olds, right?” He says after a moment. George just slumps further down in the passenger seat. 

“I’ll change shit to stuff.” He says petulantly. Then, after a moment, “You should kill Babe for me.”

Joe doesn’t bother replying.

--

Perconte flashes him a look when he pushes through the doors of the school, five minutes before the bell rings. George just makes a face back. 

“Babe took my Galileo costume.” He says, and Perconte snorts, turning on his heel to follow George down to the classroom.

“Hence the turtleneck.” He says dryly, styrofoam cup of coffee in hand. “I didn’t even know you had a turtleneck.”

“I don't.” George says, patting down his pockets for his ID and key. “It’s Joe’s. I think I looked about two seconds away from crying, so he just let me take it. Which, humiliating, but at least I have it now.” Perco snorts.

“They're gonna have no clue who you're dressed as. You realize that, right?” 

George opens the door to his classroom and only turns around again to flip off Perconte with his index finger, because he likes his job and doesn't want to lose it.

Perconte just laughs at him.

--

None of the kids have any clue who Carl Sagan is, but at least 30% of them have heard of Galileo. 

George's revenge on Babe will be swift, but brutal.

--

Babe goes home at 4:30, but George has to stay until six until he gets his license back, because Joe doesn't get off work until 5:45. 

So. He has plenty of time for vengeance.

Vengeance, in this case, consists of unlocking Babe’s classroom door (the bastard had taken the costume home with him, because of course he did) and putting tacks on his chair. 

--

George feels vaguely like one of his kids as he comes out of the school, bag slung over his shoulder. The one difference would probably be that Joe doesn’t wait at the door of the school and hold his hand as they walk back to his truck, but that would be weird, so.

“Hey, roomie.” George greets him as he gets into the passenger's seat, shoving his bag somewhere behind him blindly. “How’s the car doctor?”

“The kids are rubbing off on you.” Joe informs him. George waves a hand absently, closing his eyes and letting his head hit the headrest.

“No one knew who Carl Sagan was.” He says. Joe hums.

“Look forward to career day.” He offers, and George turns his cheek against the headrest to raise an eyebrow.

“You remember career day?” He asks, rather surprised, and Joe huffs. He keeps his eyes on the road, and streetlights wash his face in bloody light.

“Well, yeah.” He says dryly. “You made me come in and talk last year.” George turns to face forward again.

“Oh,” He says. He doesn’t remember that. It’s quiet, for a while. George is rather exhausted, even after he overslept, so he’s not really in the mood to ramble.

Joe must not be used to it, because he clears his throat. “I could come in this year, too, if you like.” He says. George’s chest feels warm.

“Yeah.” He says, and turns to watch Joe’s profile some more. “I’d like that.”

--

Sometimes George thinks there might be something between him and Joe, but he usually just chalks that up to roommate stereotypicality and leaves it at that.

“Thanks, for, you know.” He says, waving his hand vaguely, as Joe locks the door to their apartment behind him. “Letting me borrow your turtleneck. And dropping me off and picking me up at work for, like, the past four weeks. And for coming to the school on career day. And not murdering me in my sleep.”

Joe huffs. It’s as ambivalent as it ever is, but George knows it means laughter. “Yeah, yeah.” He says. “Thanks for paying rent.” 

George hums as he falls face first onto the couch. “I still think you should kill Babe.” He says to the cushions. The cushions dip slightly as Joe sits down beside him. 

“I’ll consider it.” He says lightly, and George grins against the afghan that had been thrown across the back of the sofa. When he looks up, half of his face still buried in the blanket, Joe’s watching him, eyes dark.

George watches him back. Joe has a nice nose, he thinks, vaguely. And a nice jaw. And nice skin. And a nice voice. And a nice personality. 

“Hey, Joe.” He murmurs. Joe raises an eyebrow back, and George shoves his elbows against the cushions of the couch to get closer to him.

“Hi.” He says back, and George wants to smile at the way he says it, which is one of the most ridiculous things he’s ever thought. 

Joe’s not very far, is the thing, maybe four or six inches away from George’s own face. He shifts against the couch, getting closer to him, eyes just as dark as ever.

Joe, George thinks belatedly, might be about to kiss him.

George tilts his chin up, slightly, mostly out of instinct, as Joe drops his down to meet him.

George’s phone starts ringing, and he jumps so badly he rolls right off the couch. 

Joe leaps back, as well, clearing his throat and shifting to sit on his hands, and George steadfastly doesn’t look at him as he picks up his phone and accepts the call.

“Hey,” Babe Heffrons says, when he does, and, yeah. George is actually going to kill him. “Do you think Joe would be willing to come in for career day, in a couple weeks? Gene can’t and mechanics are interesting.”

“Go fuck yourself.” George tells him, and hangs up on Babe’s insulted spluttering.

He shoves the phone into his pocket and looks back over at Joe, who’s gotten up from the couch and now leans against the back of it. He sees his own thoughts reflected back at him, so he starts walking backwards to his room. “I’m gonna go get ready for bed.” He says, even though it’s 6:30 in the afternoon.

Joe nods. “Yeah,” He says, and throws a thumb over his shoulder, to where the door is. “I’m, uh. Gonna go out drinking with Bill.”

George, who’s still backing up, trips over the corner of the carpet and stumbles. “Yep.” He says, shoots fingerguns at Joe, who gives him a thumbs up in return, and flees to his room.

He shuts the door behind him and leans against it.

Huh.

[pinkusmaximus]

baptizing my feed with old doodles of Them to mentally prepare myself for posting new stuff coming up

I am no longer embarrassed about my oc x canon stuff so here’s to new content 🩷💙

[tanicus-caesareth]

guarana drama, damage control

[blitzwhore]

Hello! Out of pure curiousity, have you seen Sarcastic Chorus new Stolitz analysis video?

I-figured-i'd-ask-just-to-hear-other-people's-opinions-but-if-not-

What's your favorite Blitz moment?

Hi! I hadn't seen it—it's honestly been years since I've watched any videos from that channel—but I decided to check it out after I got this ask.

I only made it about 17 minutes in before I decided to close it because it just wasn't doing it for me.

Overall, the analysis was good. It was in-depth, connected the dots from different episodes, and delved into some of the problems in their "relationship" in a way that was thought-provoking. But... in my opinion, up to where I watched, it only painted half a picture and was more biased than I would like.

Personally, I don't have the energy to engage with any meta or analysis that only delves into the mistakes of one of the characters while portraying the other as a victim. That's the same reason why I've personally stopped watching Danny Mota's reaction videos, for example. I simply choose not to dedicate my time and mental energy to online content that posits either Blitz or Stolas as (however unwittingly) selfish, self-centered and completely powerful in the "relationship", and the other as a blameless victim who didn't deserve the way he was treated. I simply have bigger problems in my life and better things to spend my free time on.

My personal opinion (which I think is very clear if you look through my blog 😂) is that both Blitz and Stolas are traumatised and messed up characters, who are flawed in ways that are extremely human and relatable to the audience. And I'm not going to go more in-depth into my thoughts on them, because I'd rather do that when making my own meta posts out of excitement than as a commentary on someone else's review that annoyed me a little bit. But, yeah, my overall opinion on the part of the video that I watched was: not strictly incorrect, but biased, and framed in a way that doesn't make me want to dedicate more of my time to it.

As for my favourite Blitz moment... I have too many 😂 I really can't pick favourites. His whole existence is my favourite <333

[regnantlight]

The feminine urge to quit my job so that I can go grab my baby from daycare. 🥲

[the-ghost-of-jason-todd]

I VOTED.

[iphigeniacomplex]

my dreams, my works, must wait till after hell by Gwendolyn Brooks

I hold my honey and I store my bread In little jars and cabinets of my will. I label clearly, and each latch and lid I bid, Be firm till I return from hell. I am very hungry. I am incomplete. And none can tell when I might dine again. No man can give me any word but Wait, The puny light. I keep eyes pointed in; Hoping that, when the devil days of my hurt Drag out to their last dregs and I resume On such legs as are left me, in such heart As I can manage, remember to go home, My taste will not have turned insensitive To honey and bread old purity could love.

[bedazzlecunt]

good toys don't think. i don't think. good toys don't think. i don't think. good toys don't think. i don't think. good toys don't think. i don't think.

hard cnc/misogyny/detrans/etc. blogs DNFI

[blackcatarts]

file name "get me out of here.png"

[sparkylurkdragon]

“A truly great library contains something in it to offend everyone.” -Jo Godwin

[theoverlordmisha]

Sometimes, I get this yearning for a romantic connection with someone, but then I think of the effort needed and nope.