#new point of view

[stellarpurplecollar]

Journal: Stand and look up.

When my brother and I were growing up, we did a Christmas thing. It was one of the few things we ever did together. As soon as the tree was up, we would drag a pillow and some blankets into the living room, fold the blankets to make a bit of cushioning for our backs, and lie on the floor with our heads tucked under the tree to fall asleep staring at the lights. We chatted a bit, but I don't remember any kind of deep conversation. No secret swapping or philosophical reveal. He would almost always fall asleep first. Mainly we were there for the lights.

I think once we hit middle school, we tapered off from the experience. By then, we had smartened up -- acknowledging Floor=Back pain. We started camping out on couches and recliners for a few nights. Still, the conversation was mindless chatter. Sans profoundness.

He has kids now. We still don't communicate. I wonder if his boys camp beneath their trees. I couldn't provide a significant tree for my girls. I don't remember if they ducked under their grandparents' tree; I just don't remember.

Recently, in my therapy group, a young woman said she liked to go into the forest and look up. She does it whenever she gets the chance. "I love that sense of smallness. It's like, my body loses balance but my mind gains insight, you know? Like, whatever problem I took to the woods, it wasn't as big of a deal compared to my inner tree holding the rest of my life." I wanted to ask her if birds pooping from that height constituted a conundrum or some sort of thought hiccup, but we aren't allowed to ask those sorts of questions. Honestly I hate not being able to be myself.

I can't wander into the woods; my walker won't fit. And I don't need to look up to lose my balance. Unless I have wandered out there to die, I won't get to experience that feeling of awe. But I can still look up. The other night I spent an hour staring out the window. I am in a place far from where I grew up; the stars didn't look familiar and I was uneasy. I spotted a falling star. It was brilliant! In a sky full of pin pricks, this was a marker, thick and flowing.

The next time you are somewhere you normally are not, look up. It doesn't have to be nature. It can be information, a person of personal influence or connection, or to watch a flock of birds passing overhead. However it happens, you will come home with a new perspective -- even if it is with only one eye.

Shortchanged in foresight,

She Who is Collared

[suzilight]

I don't know what a Blorbo is, but I agree. That's one reason I like to read old books. The language is different. What the characters accept as normal or 'gasp' shocking is far from 2024. The pace can be maddening slow. It's a time capsule and nothing like me.

But, I had to set aside Tess of the D’Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy. Poor Tess was being stalked and manipulated. I couldn't. Hope I can finish it another time.

#not to shoehorn the blorbo into your worldview as if they were YOU #walking in a characters shoes #NEW point of view #go along for the ride

media literacy would automatically go up 100% if people knew how to consume stories without self-inserting themselves into the characters' shoes. "if i were him..." you're NOT. you may relate to his story, his past, his traits, his quirks, his identity but the moment you start treating the story accepting what you feel/think as what the character feels/thinks, you're misunderstanding the story.

[catherine-sketches]

For the people saying that Jayce had no motivation to shot Viktor…

Did you not see the fucked up shit that Jayce is seeing?

My man went into the hexcore and saw horrors beyond his comprehension. He called hextech, HIS DREAM, a curse

When he looks at the people on the commune he sees hollow vessels with people faces and the marks of Viktor’s fingers

Jayce caved Viktor’s chest in because he KNEW that the pretty colors and the art deco architecture was a facade. That whatever Viktor is doing is stripping people from their true selves and leaving behind puppets that play a game called community where no one reacts like a normal person because no matter how good you life in your community is

NO ONE WOULD JUST STAND AND LOOK WHILE THE MAD HAMMER MAN NEARLY DISINTEGRATES WHAT LOOKS LIKE A CHILD TO ASHE

These are Zaunites. They would have curb stomped Jayce to the ground

But they didn’t

They stood there

Because their Machine Herald told them to “Suffer no more”

And what is fear, what is love, if not a form of suffering

[toniko]

me when my omniscient reader has no viewpoint

[unproduciblesmackdown]

Lackadaisy Enrichment

[dinosaurwithablog]

This man and his alligator make me very happy 😊 they see the world in a different way. Groovy!! 😍

[bacchuschucklefuck]

and! barbarian!fig! its her

[thepersonalquotes]

The best thing about photography: it changes your point of view.

Nina Hrusa

[somegrumpynerd]

Killer is the only one Nightmare can't track down easily, since he can feel the others by emotion but can't usually sense Killer's unless he's in stage 1.

This is a small part of why he and Color got off on the wrong foot, because the first time Color and Killer met was when he was helping Dream fight them and he managed to pull Killer away from the main fight to try and reason with him. While they were doing that, Nightmare decided to retreat but couldn't see Killer around and couldn't find him using emotions, so he had to leave without him. (He did return later to scour the place and found Killer waiting for him, since he'd refused Color's offer to go with them.)

This became a running theme, where sometimes after a battle Killer would be gone without a trace because he was off fighting/talking with Color and Nightmare would have to come back for him later. It's also what makes Nightmare a little uneasy in present day about Killer running off to hang out with Color sometimes, because if Color succeeds in convincing Killer not to return, Nightmare has no way of tracking him down anymore. He just has to trust that Killer will return at some point, and wait.

[pigeon-noises]

"I look forward to the day we meet again."

Once again inspired by @isnt-it-pretty's FtCoR fic

[stickmenyaoi]

about absence; presence. Lover; Warrior

Inspired by.

[goldensunset]

O you, who at the world's far-off end dwell,

I know your wish- it is my wish as well.

[solcarow]

stella ( @obstinaterixatrix ) yuor tags possessed me

[cinnamonsikwate]

"why couldn't shuro have just been honest about what he felt with laios and falin it's not that hard" are you. are you White

[jaynovz]

In discussions about the finale of Black Sails, one of the things I often see is folks hard-focusing on Flint's fate, in an either-or binary fashion, usually presented as "Which do you believe-- that Silver killed him? or sent him to the plantation?"

Now, for posterity's sake, gonna mention a few things-- first off, that's simply not thinking broadly enough. There are farrrr more than two options here and I've come up with my share of the reallyyyyy bad ones for sure. Whatever your mind chooses, none of those are happy endings anyway, there are bittersweet, bad, and worse endings all the way down. (They are paused, they are in a time loop, and also all endings and no endings are happening simultaneously)

But also, the more cogent point is that, it doesn't actually matter what happened *to Flint* The story is... not actually about him at that point. We have transitioned from Flint as protag to Silver as protag, setting up for (the fanfiction that Black Sails has ended up making of, ugh, king shit) Treasure Island.

And so, I just, don't find it to be of particular interest exploring what we think Flint is actually doing or if he's alive for real. What is EXTREMELY interesting to explore though is how Silver's speech at the end to Madi is sort of giving Thomas back to Flint as a pacifier/comfort object, but how... Silver is giving Flint that thing in his own mind as his own type of pacifier/comfort object.

That's the REALLY chewy bit. What actually happens to Flint is not the purpose of that scene for me, of Silver's recounting of events to Madi. It's more about... projection. It's about how Silver is dealing with whatever happened to Flint/whatever he did.

And I just feel like it's missing the point to focus so hard on if Flint is alive or not.

He is the ghost of the story regardless, that's what's important. He's going to haunt the narrative for the rest of everyone's lives. No one has been untouched or unscarred by coming into contact with Captain Flint; he has a forever legacy. I'm not the first to call him this, but he's Schrödinger's Flint and he's staying that way.

But this?

"No. I did not kill Captain Flint. I unmade him. The man you know could never let go of his war. For if he were to exclude it from himself, he would not be able to understand himself. So I had to return him to an earlier state of being. One in which he could function without the war. Without the violence. Without us. Captain Flint was born out of great tragedy. I found a way to reach into the past... and undo it. There is a place near Savannah... where men unjustly imprisoned in England are sent in secret. An internment far more humane, but no less secure. Men who enter these gates never leave them. To the rest of the world, they simply cease to be. He resisted... at first. But then I told him what else I had heard about this place. I was told prominent families amongst London society made use of it. I was told the governor in Carolina made use of it. So I sent a man to find out if they'd used it to hide away one particular prisoner. He returned with news. Thomas Hamilton was there. He disbelieved me. He continued to resist. And corralling him took great effort. But the closer we got to Savannah, his resistance began to diminish. I couldn't say why. I wasn't expecting it. Perhaps he'd finally reached the limits of his physical ability to fight. Or perhaps as the promise of seeing Thomas got closer... he grew more comfortable letting go of this man he created in response to his loss. The man whose mind I had come to know so well... whose mind I'd in some ways incorporated into my own. It was a strange experience to see something from it... so unexpected. I choose to believe it... because it wasn't the man I had come to know at all... but one who existed beforehand... waking from a long... and terrible nightmare. Reorienting to the daylight... and the world as it existed before he first closed his eyes... letting the memory of the nightmare fade away. You may think what you want of me. I will draw comfort in the knowledge that you're alive to think it. But I'm not the villain you fear I am. I'm not him."

This is the speech of a man who is self-soothing, who is spinning himself a tale, who is projecting, who is coping.

and THAT is just, way chewier, innit?

[dykedvonte]

I hate the stretch lines in the front of Curly's uniform because that means the devs rushed to make a model in like a month or so and thought "They gotta at least know he has huge knockers, gotta know he's got back pain." Cause like what is the thematic importance of his tits having overhang?

What responsibility is that representing? Breast reduction? It shows an inherent greed in his character due to the excess and heshouldletmeholdone and that he clearly is blinded cause if he tries to look down his damn ladder all he's seeing is his own cleavage.