#people are here for u

[oi4v]

source: pinterest

The Fall Slump

During the colder seasons, you may experience a slump or bout of depression and it is really hard. I get hit the hardest this time of year and there is things I learned really helped me got on track. Recently I started a winter arc and was really productive for 2 weeks straight. Just straight productivity until yesterday. Here Are Things I Learned

Take Breaks - breaks are not that bad. You have to be mindful of how long of a break you have and make sure you work extra hard after it. Breaks can help you cool down and really ground yourself if you do self care. Reward yourself - Days are tough, having a self routine is crucial. Make a Dopamine Menu or start something that really unwinds you. I feel like an extra cup of water, mindful journaling, and analyzing good influences really energize me. I love watching vloggers who are trying to improve their lives because I want to be like that. Push yourself - Discipline is key and even if we may not want it. We can stop for a bit but we ALWAYS have to get back up. You cannot change your situation if you sit there; YOU are in charge of your future and you have to take it in your consideration. Reflect on yourself - Are your goals reasonable? Are they too pushy? Sometimes we create something that is too hard. Get this- your goals aren't unachievable, it is the way you proceed with it. You can't just force yourself on a calorie deficit; you have to ease yourself. Same with a workout routine-- we are going for slight discomfort. As we get going we can up our standards. We have to have high standards for ourselves but they MUST be reachable.

Times are really hard for us but we have to keep pushing through. Sometimes we have to think back and see if we are doing everything in a healthy manner. Is this how we truly want our lives to be? Does it bring me joy? It may not in your current attitude but is it healthy for our bodies and is it morally good for us. Slumps take a lot to get out of and it is okay to ask for support and resources. We will get better.

[inkskinned]

this is just my opinion but i think any good media needs obsession behind it. it needs passion, the kind of passion that's no longer "gentle scented candle" and is now "oh shit the house caught on fire". it needs a creator that's biting the floorboards and gnawing the story off their skin. creators are supposed to be wild animals. they are supposed to want to tell a story with the ferocity of eating a good stone fruit while standing over the sink. the same protective, strange instinct as being 7 and making mud potions in pink teacups: you gotta get weird with it.

good media needs unhinged, googling-at-midnight kind of energy. it needs "what kind of seams are invented on this planet" energy and "im just gonna trust the audience to roll with me about this" energy. it needs one person (at least) screaming into the void with so much drive and energy that it forces the story to be real.

sometimes people are baffled when fanfic has some stunning jaw-dropping tattoo-it-on-you lines. and i'm like - well, i don't go here, but that makes sense to me. of fucking course people who have this amount of passion are going to create something good. they moved from a place of genuine love and enjoyment.

so yeah, duh! saturday cartoons have banger lines. random street art is sometimes the most precious heart-wrenching shit you've ever seen. someone singing on tiktok ends up creating your next favorite song. youtubers are giving us 5 hours of carefully researched content. all of this is the impossible equation to latestage capitalism. like, you can't force something to be good. AI cannot make it good. no amount of focus-group testing or market research. what makes a story worth listening to is that someone cares so much about telling it - through dance, art, music, whatever it takes - that they are just a little unhinged about it.

one time my friend told me he stayed up all night researching how many ways there are to peel an orange. he wrote me a poem that made me cry on public transportation. the love came through it like pith, you know? the words all came apart in my hands. it tasted like breakfast.

[sentientsky]

just a friendly reminder that, just because slavery was formally "abolished" in the so-called united states* in 1865, enslavement itself is still ongoing in the form of incarceration, which disproportionately affects Black and Indigenous people

(*i say "so-called" because the US is a settler-colonial construction founded on greed, extraction, and white supremacy) recommended readings/resources:

The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness by Michelle Alexander

"How the 13th Amendment Kept Slavery Alive: Perspectives From the Prison Where Slavery Never Ended" by Daniele Selby

"So You're Thinking About Becoming an Abolitionist" by Mariame Kaba

"The Case for Prison Abolition: Ruth Wilson Gilmore on COVID-19, Racial Capitalism & Decarceration" from Democracy Now! [VIDEO]

[hinamie]

sympathy for cain

[stuckinapril]

I love Tumblr because nothing matters here truly. There are no influencers. Having followers doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a site where people post their sporadic thoughts and rb pretty pictures. Anyone who thinks any of this matters is woefully missing the point

[nova-rpv]

a redraw of the first drawing i posted here to celebrate the fact that ive been in tumblr for more than a whole year posting my shit and havent deleted my blog in panic yippee \:D/ (mushy rant in tags)

[bacchuschucklefuck]

class swap design masterpost for convenience (from top to bottom: bard!riz, cleric!gorgug, sorcerer!kristen, barbarian!fig, artificer!adaine, and rogue!fabian)

[kimmkitsuragi]

oh my fucking god i don't have any clothesssss

[ballad-of-the-lamb]

[deeducing]

was scrolling through my gallery and these were next to each other

[litl-rat-dude]

more hsr doots, just having fun figuring out their shapes :)

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

[ariaste]

Me: [sees everyone talking about how Assad Zaman was "literally" coming up with RPF about himself and Eric Bogosian in an interview]

Me: ah, fandom's doing its little "interpret an innocent comment in Some Kind Of Way" thing again, let's go find the video and do our own critical thinking about what was actually said here--

Assad: What would happen if I said-- [words that cannot be interpreted as anything but RPF fanfic]

Me:

Me: ok fandom gets a pass on this one actually

[wigglybunfish]

Designs for the funky humans of PreservationAux, Perihelion, + one very tired SecUnit and a monstrous Research Transport AI.

[nekoning]

final part - huafenglian turns xi4nle and everyone is gay in a kinda lame way / parts 1 & 2

ID courtesy by @imber-florum

[Image description: A grayscale comic featuring Feng Xin, Hua Cheng, Xie Lian, and Mu Qing. As a note, all caps text in the comic has been adjusted to regular capitalization in this description to aid readability for screen readers.

Feng Xin is fiddling with a torn dummy from fighting practice. San Lang scoffs and says, "You're pretty miserable, huh?"

"Yeah, this dummy tore apart too soon..." Feng Xin says, focused and not looking at him.

"...Not what I meant." At Feng Xin's confused glance, San Lang says, "You have no choice but to share with someone you hate."

"I don't hate you though."

"Oh, and you expect me to believe that?"

Feng Xin turns back to the dummy. "I thought you were going to hurt Dianxia so I wanted you away from him, but he's safe and happy with you, so it's fine now."

San Lang's eye twitches. "...You really are simple-minded."

"Fuck you!" Feng Xin shouts. "Tch, and you think too much. Just like Mu Qing." Hua Cheng abruptly shifts to his Crimson Rain Sought Flower form, his hair raised and shadows looming ominously around him. He barely restrains himself from punching an oblivious Feng Xin by thinking of Xie Lian's happiness at him and Feng Xin getting along better.

"Speaking of that one," Hua Cheng says, "What is he up to?" The comic shows Xie Lian approaching Mu Qing, who blushes.

"Uh, I think Dianx— ...A-Lian wanted to plant cherry trees," says Feng Xin. His words are paired with an image of Mu Qing looking downward, still blushing and perhaps saying something. Feng Xin continues, "And he offered to help, because 'he didn't trust him to do it right' and all that." These words are paired with an image of Mu Qing's eye glancing to the side.

The next frame shows Mu Qing in simpler clothes diligently sowing, planting, and watering seeds. One of Hua Cheng's butterflies flits around him, spying on him.

One day, Hua Cheng comes to spy on Mu Qing in person from behind a bush. 'Does he really have to come every single day?!?' he thinks.

It is on this day that the cherry tree seedling sprouts. Mu Qing smiles happily. At the sight, Hua Cheng leaps from the bush, shouting, "What the—?! Who is that?!?!"

"It hasn't changed!!!!" shout Xie Lian and Feng Xin, who leap up at the same time from the bush next to him. The three of them turn to each other, flustered, and Mu Qing jumps and hisses at them, a furious blush on his cheeks. Hua Cheng and Xie Lian look back to him with bemused frowns while Feng Xin sweats in fear of Mu Qing's rage. End image description.]

[stuckinapril]

friend wanted to see my tumblr, and when i told him i can’t show it to him bc it’s basically my personal diary he went “oh so I can’t see it but a bunch of strangers on tumblr can??” he literally does not get me. no one will get me like the people in my phone get me