#poet big naturals

[askthe-littlepoet]

poet big naturals

poet big naturals

[smurfs-collector]

Die Schlümpfe - BASTEI Zeitschrift/The Smurfs - BASTEI Magazine (127/134)

Published by Bastei Lübbe from January 1991 to January 2002, includes 132 monthly issues and 2 special issues: Weihnachten (1997) & Endlich Frühling! (1998)

Note that only 127 out of 134 issues were found, I converted all the original cbr files to pdf ones so everyone can easily view them, they have all been archived on the Internet Archive

Where I found them (all cbr files)

Source X - Y - Z

[l48yr1nth]

I'm sitting here on my couch watching my cat groom himself. Our door is open cause the weather is nice. I can hear a Sandhill crane's cry echo across the lake. There's a slight breeze and I can see the shadow of the moss on the trees sway on the floor. My cat's got one paw in the sunbeam

[semperardens-juli]

Wordworth's brief was to give ''the charm of novelty" to everyday life and awaken the reader to the loveliness of the familiar.

William Wordsworth and Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Lyrical Ballads (1798-1800) taken from The Literature Book: Big Ideas Simply Explained, by James Canton (x)

leave a little kindness (x)

[euesworld]

"A beautiful view is so serene, it really makes you think about a lot of nothing.. but in that nothing, you touch on something and you realize that the beauty of the world really touches you deeply in ways that walls never could."

"There are flowers, everywhere it would seem.. of all shapes and colors, so serene. Walking in nature is a soft kind of softness that touches the soul, a gentle breeze, the clouds, the sky, entering me so softly and swiftly that I don't even know what to think.. just be."

"Just bee.. sit on a flower for hours, for all to see, enjoying a soft breeze and clinging to life."

My adventure today consists of randomness, although it all doesn't seem so random at all as I fall into the soft, softness of the softest breeze - eUë

[familiarquotation]

it's time for me to quietly watch the world and even enjoy it

Jack Kerouac, Big Sur

[inkskinned]

most writing advice is good as long as you know why it is good, at which point it is also bad. the hardest thing (and most precious thing) about being an artist is that you gotta learn how to take critique. i don't mean "just shut up and accept that people hate your work," i mean you need to learn what the critique is saying and then figure out if it actually helps.

i usually tell people reading my work: "i'm collecting data, so everything is useful." i ask them where they put the book down, even though it's too long for most people to read in 1 sitting. i ask them what they thought of certain characters. i let them tell me it was really good but i like it more when they look a little stunned and say i forgot i was reading your book, which means they forgot i exist, which is very good news.

sometimes people i didn't ask will read my work and tell me i don't like it. and that is okay, you don't have to like it. but i look at the thing that they don't like and try to figure out if i care. i don't like that you don't capitalize. this one is common, and i have already thought about it. i do not care, it's because of chronic pain and frankly i like the little shape of small letters. you use teeth and ribs in all your work. actually that is very true. i don't know what's up with that. next time i will work to figure out a different word, thank you. you're whiny, go outside. someone said that to me recently and it made me laugh. i am on the whine-about-it website as an internet poet. you are in my native habitat, watching me perform a natural enrichment behavior. but i like the dip of whiny, how the word itself does "whine" (up/down, the sound out your nose on the y), but i don't know if i want to feel whiny. maybe next time i will work on it being melancholy, like what you would call a male writer's poetry.

repeated "good" advice clangs in a bell and doesn't hold a real shape, dilutes in the water. like sometimes you will hear "don't use said." you turn that around in your head and it bounces off the edges of your brain like it is a dvd screensaver. it isn't bad advice, but it feels wrong somehow, like saying easy choices are illegal! sometimes i will only use "said." sometimes i will just kick dialogue tags out to the trash. sometimes i make little love poems where the fact that i do not say "said" is very bad, and makes you feel bad in your body, because someone didn't say something. i am a contrary little shitbird, i guess.

but it is also good advice, actually. it is trying to say that "said" sometimes is clutter. it makes new writers think about the very-small words and very-small choices, because actually your work matters and wordchoice matters. "i know," you said. "i know," you sighed. "i know." we both know but neither of us use a dialogue tag, because we are in a contemporary lit piece.

it is too-small to say don't use said. but it is a big command, so it gets your attention. what are you relying on? what easy choices do you make? when you edit, do you choose the same thing? can you make a different choice? sometimes we need the blankness of said, how it slides into the background. sometimes we don't.

i usually say best advice is to read, but i also mean read books you don't like, because that will make you angry enough to write your own book. i also mean read good books, which will break your heart and remind you that you are a very small person and your voice is a seashell. i also mean you need to eat books because reading a book is a writer's version of studying.

my creative writing teacher in the 7th grade had a big red list of no! words and on it was SUNSET. RAZORS. LOVE. GALAXY. DEATH. BLOOD. PAIN. I liked that razor and love were tucked next to each other like birds, and found it funny that he believed we were too young to know the weight of razor in the context of pain. i hated him and his Grateful Dead belt, where the colored teddy bears held up his appraisal of us. i hated his no list. it is very good/bad advice. i wasn't old enough yet to know that when you are writing about death you are also writing about sunsets and when you write about love you are tucking yourself into a napkin that never stops folding.

back then my poetry was all bloody, dripped with agony when you picked it up. i didn't know there is nothing beautiful about a razor, nothing exciting about pain. i just understood sharpness, which he took to mean i understood nothing. i wrote the razor down and it wasn't easy, but it was necessary. that's what i'm saying - sometimes it's good advice, because it's not always necessary. and sometimes it is very bad advice, because writing about it is lifesaving.

hang on my dog was just having a nightmare. i heard that it is a rule not to write about dogs - in my creative writing mfa, my teacher rolled her eyes and said everyone writes a dead dog. the literature streets are littered in canine bodies. i watched the rise and fall of his ribs (there is that word again) and had to reach out and stop the bad dream. when he woke up he didn't recognize me, and he was afraid.

it is good/bad advice to say that poems and writing have to mean something. it is bad/good advice to say they're big feelings in small packages. it is better advice to say that when my dog saw where he was, he relaxed immediately, rubbed his face against me. someone on instagram would make fun of that moment by writing their "internet poetry" as a sentence that tumbles across a white page: outside it is sunset and my dog is still in a gutter, bleeding a galaxy out of his left paw. or maybe it would be: i woke the dog up/the dog forgot i loved him/and i saw the shape of a senseless/and impossible pain.

the dog is alive in this one, and he is happy. when i tell you i love you, i know what i said. write what you need to write, be gentle to yourself about it. the advice is only as good as far as it helps. the rest is just fencing. take stock of the boundaries, and then break them. there's always somewhere else you could be growing.

i love you, keep going.

[chitra111goddess]

VEDIC ASTROLOGY NOTES ♡

(Can apply to any planet placement)

⚡️Ashwini women always stand out to me with their creativity especially in acting , they rly know to embody the character they're playing to the fullest even irl it may be easier for them to shift thro different identities or alter-egos just for funsies

⚡️There's smtg about purva phalguni women , they're gorgeous but for some reason I noticed they get hate esp from other women like they're called fake or pick-mes or they make up stories hmm

⚡️Purva ashadha women are so inspiring like they're always the ones to be teaching or preaching or saying smtg inspiring/motivational. They're beauties with soul and a mind of their own ! If u know a purva ashadha better take notes 📝

⚡️Magha women love wearing black and something about their looks or style is unconventional/gothy, it suits them

⚡️Uttara-phalguni women are so headstrong bruh and they have this leadership aura about them, they're gonna do what THEY think is right. Like other sun-ruled nakshatras they easily get attention

⚡️Mrigashira women love the push & pull , cat &mouse game, they either attract this dynamic or they create it themselves. There's also smth about Mrigashira and obsession 👀

⚡️Jyestha women embody the wild feminine archetype imo, when evolved theyre truly empowered and have this idgaf energy. people may be threatened by their power or skills. Their voice or the way the speak is commanding and naturally charismatic

⚡️Swati/ardra and their eyes 👁👁 most captivating eyes imo I'm in luv

⚡️Purva bhadrapada women seem to attract or be drawn to men with dark nature or men who carry trauma ? Or they know how to bring that out in a man

⚡️Dhanishta women love dancing and they appear to be friendly or have many acquaintances but very little people they relate to. Popular girlies

⚡️Rohini women feminine energy is undeniable , something about them feels innocent yet erotic. They just give off this juicy fertile vibee lmao💦 unlike jyestha which is more dry (not in a bad way its just different 💀)

⚡️Anuradha women are secretive as hell even if they tell u shit don't think u have them all figured out. there's so much to unpack with them , they're generally intriguing complex characters

⚡️Most bratty nakshatras are mrigashira and chitra lmao

⚡️Revati women are pretty privilege girlies also they're master manipulators 👀 they know how to use their femininity to get what they want

⚡️Pushya women have big MOMMY energy. they seem/look mature. They're either the ones taking care of others or others take care of them

⚡️Uttara bhadrapada women have dualistic nature they're either the sweetest ppl u know or ur worst nightmare depending on who theyre dealing with 💀they're like a mirror projecting and reflecting back ur inner self back at ya (Pisces energy) also don't forget the karmic saturn influence.. u don't wanna mess w them or any other saturn ruled woman

⚡️Viahaka women go through intense ups and downs , starting from their good girl phase then they snap and go wild then they mature/become spiritual

⚡️Chitra women secretly (or not so secretly) enjoy drama , they're either the ones caught up in it or they play the role of the "judge" where they can solve conflicts between others. Somehow they're surrounded by it.

⚡️Don't underestimate krittika women especially when it comes to survival 💀 these women can be dangerous and will stab a bitch if they rly had to (whether its for defending loved ones or them surviving) their symbol is 🔪 after all and taurus/aries gives them that survival instinct

⚡️Ardra women can make great poets/song writers , their creativity and inspiration stems from their own 'tragic' experiences

⚡️Punarvasu women remind me of that quote "home is where the heart is" they always end up coming back to their origins and what they feel in their heart

Lemme know ur thoughts & what I should make next

[trash-and-trash-accessories]

I love Spike so much. He's the most character of all time. But it's more than that. He's more than bleached hair, a pretty face, and bloodlust. He makes sense. The character makes sense.

He's William. He's still, despite it all, William Pratt, the god-awful poet and pathetic wet cat of a man under the thumb of mommy his whole life. He just wants to be loved and held and to satiate his unending bloodlust. He's not the big bad. He's pathetic.

He's burnt out on all the plots and schemes. Plots and schemes are Angel's thing. Serving some grand evil purpose is Darla's thing. Cruelty is Drusilla's thing. William Pratt is a poet and a mama's boy who just wants a strong woman to love him and tell him what to do. He's tired. He's so tired of the plots and schemes.

Sure, he knows how to have a good time, he plays kitten poker and sells demon eggs to the highest bidder but that's a matter of making money or hanging out with friends. It's not what he WANTS. The only thing he wants is to be loved by someone who loves him back. The problem is, he's toxic and obsessive. He doesn't fall in love. He becomes consumed. His whole world revolves around the object of his obsession. So when he's with Drusilla, he's the big bad evil guy doing schemes. Trying to impress her with extreme violence and death. Because that's what Drusilla is into. Torture and death. She's Catholic. And a vampire.

He also tries to impress Angel by killing Slayers because Angel is into Slayers and Angel and Spike canonically slept together don't at me. This man is bisexual.

When he's with Buffy he's a loyal dog. A bad boy, a part of the demonic world, but a dog nonetheless. He's a soulless monster but his obsession with Buffy turns him into one of the good guys. It's not natural for him. He feels it happening and he fights against it, but he's madly in love with her and he will be and do whatever it takes to impress her and make her love him back. He's obsessive.

He knows it, and he doesn't like that side of himself. He doesn't like that he's a pathetic dog. Sometimes he pushes against that side of himself. He tries to be a good person, for real. Not just a pathetic stalker of a man.

But he can't fight it. He is what he is.

And unfortunately that is a soulless vampire.

Hence that one scene that I pretend didn't happen.

But despite being definitionally evil, he can't stop being consumed the person he's obsessed with. Buffy wants him to have a soul. She wants him to not be the monster he is. So he rips William Pratt from his grave and resurrects him for her. He goes through hell to put his soul back inside his body for her. It takes her a long time to accept him again after what he did.

But he's the good boy now. He's a good dog.

Only she doesn't see him that way. In the end, he has her trust. Her love. She cares about him and sees him as her equal. As someone she can trust. She can't trust her friends because they're messy and constantly fucking up and betraying her because they don't understand what it is to be The Slayer. To have a human body and a human soul, with demonic power inside, and the divine mandate to sacrifice yourself for others, to save the world. No matter what that does to you.

Spike has a human soul, a demon inside him, trauma, and a divine mission to save the world. To sacrifice himself for everyone.

Spike is the only one who understands Buffy, and maybe the only one who ever will.

He's the perfect culmination of all her other relationships.

He fucks. Unlike Angel, Spike can fuck. He can experience joy alongside her.

He respects her strength and isn't emasculated or intimidated by the fact that she's stronger than him. He loves that she defeated a god. Unlike fucking Riley.

He's lived lifetimes worth of traumatic experiences. But he isn't currently experiencing an ongoing mental health crisis like Faith was.

And he likes poetry!

They even have the same ex boyfriend!

In conclusion He and Buffy are both the most character of all time and the narrative's favorites and therefore they are both perfect for each other and have the potential to be extremely toxic together and I'm so happy for them, I hope she pegs him, I know he would love that.

[apricot-blossomss]

☛ the moment they realize they are in love with f! reader [apollo, eros, hermes, ares x reader]

☀️ APOLLO falls for you when he hears you sing

☛ there was nothing you would rather do on a sunday afternoon than have an exhausted god resting on your lap and running your fingers through his hair. right after coming home from his godly duties, apollo had swept you away to this remote flower field in the mortal realm. a glistening stream splashed lightly in your ears as you watched apollo, the way the sun kissed his cheeks and showed his freckles, the way he seemed to glow with a golden hue. his divinity on full display, and at the same time, the visible tiredness made him look more human.

subconsciously, you started humming a tune. a lullaby for your sleeping god as your fingers drew small circles on his scalp. in his slumber, a little huff left his lips that fanned your wrist and you smiled affectionately. it was almost too natural, the way your tune turned into a melody and the way that your humming turned into words, but you couldn't help a grin when you serrated to sing in a low voice. "here comes the sun, doo-doo-doo-doo, here comes the sun..."

when apollo was around, poets got inspired, artists creative and people couldn't get catchy melodies out of their heads. wherever he went, he often left the mortals singing and dancing. if he did not say so himself, his voice was ethereal, the most beautiful tune one's ear could ever be blessed with, captivating, divine, amazing. he used to think his was and would always be the most perfect voice in the world, but the one filling his ears as he slowly regained consciousness shook him to his very core.

it only took him a few seconds to realize he was listening to you, singing to him. though a little hushed, your voice was stunning to him, the most ethereal tune and he was definitely not biased. you were ethereal. feeling your soft fingers in his hair, listening to your melodic voice, it was heaven to him. when he carefully cracked his eyes open, you were hovering over him with your adoring eyes and beautiful smile.

as soon as he opened his eyes though, you fell silent and averted your eyes. unfortunately, you misinterpreted his frown for judgement of your very much imperfect vocal abilities and your embarrassment worsened even further. to sing in the presence of the god of music- what had you been thinking? "sorry," you chuckled and looked away, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"why'd you stop?" surprised, you looked down at the god and swallowed, seeing his clear green eyes. wondering how to convey the obvious, that being your mediocre singing abilities, you big your lip and looked away, when you heard him hum. his voice was a soft, melodic whisper until he started to gently continue the tune. "little darlin', it's been a long, cold, lonely winter. little darlin', it feels like years since it's been here" his voice stunned you. it was beyond beautiful, beyond pleasing. when you began to well up at it's perfection, you felt silly, but your heart clenched and fluttered hearing him sing.

but he didn't continue, looking at you expectantly, like he was waiting for you to do something. correctly interpreting his body language, you gasped. "no-"

"yes!" he cut you off, sounding delighted and a little deranged. with one fluid motion, he sat up and reached for your clasping hands.

"you should be ashamed of yourself, that you want me to embarrass myself like that," you snorted and looked to the side, avoiding eye contact. "truly, you are cruel."

"embarrass yourself?" he asked, and again with those furrowed brows. "darling, that was beautiful."

light, warm fingers came up to trace your features gently and you saw no lie in his eyes. "you are biased," you accused him and pushed against his chest because him being so near made you unable to think straight. like a strong parfume, sweet but messing with all other senses.

"maybe," apollo smiled. he was resting on his back once more and he hadn't once enjoyed being pushed into a flower field like right now. "but that's how I hear it. and, last time i checked, i'm still the god if music so i would say i have some authority in the matter." his finger came up to trace your lips and his gaze got so heavy and so ... heated that blood shot like hot water into your cheeks. "sing with me?"

well, how could you possibly refuse him when he was looking at you like that? "i- but only a little," you said, feeling shy. "and if you make fun of me I swear, I will never sing again!"

"what a loss for the world and, more importantly, for me that would be," the sun god smiled and his eyes trailed down to your lips. "well, then.. sing, lover"

and when you gave up your resolve and sang the refrain with him, his heart burst with giddiness and he knew; he was head over heels in love with you.

💘EROS falls for you when you give him valentine chocolates

☛ valentine's day was the busiest day of the year for eros, so it was no surprise that he arrived late to your date when he usually was the first of you two at everything. after he spammed your phone with a thousand apology texts about how he was a horrible date and offering to drown himself in tartarus for eternity if you asked for it, he did manage to get his job done for the day and was now sprinting towards you, nearly trampling a satyr waiter of the cafe you a made a reservation at.

at least the view of him toppling over and trying not to destroy the valentine decorations with his wings was easing your nerves a little. you had been fawning over the god for a while now and when he asked you out two days ago, you nearly combusted with excitement. at the same time, though, eros had the tendency to make you very flustered. even though you had known him for years, your breath still got shaky and your hands sweaty whenever he so much as smiled at you.

like right now, when he spotted you from across the room and sent a bashful smirk your way. Under the table, your hands tightened around the heart-shaped box of valentine chocolates and you beamed back, unable to contain the happiness you felt.

"i am so unspeakably sorry i'm late," he panted upon arriving at the table. checking his reflection in the nearby mirror subtly, he ran his hand through his bronze locks and flashed you a seductive grin, though he still seemed a little out of breath. "tell me how to make it up to you."

"you're only ten minutes late," you smiled as your insides fluttered. his damn smile made your stomach do cartwheels.

"ten minutes i didn't get to spend with you," he argued and only now let his gaze wonder over the parts of your body visible. "love, you look beautiful. can't believe i've missed out on this sight"

damn charmer.

"speaking of beautiful," he continued and reached down to pull a giant flower bouquet out of nowhere, in your favorite color. "though it doesn't come close to your beauty, it reminded me of you."

by now you were just as red as the rose decorations. shyly, you stretched your arms out over the table to take the bouquet. "busy day?" you asked, placing it beside you and picking out a particularly colorful flower to put behind your ear.

"you would not believe how many arrows i shot today," he said, reaching over to take your hand over the table. "apparently, everyone is just as head over heels for a wonderful person in their life as I am"

you didn't know what in the world to answer with. a love declaration? just smiling? saying thank you? you opted instead to reach under the table and pull out the valentines chocolates. it was a pink box, you picked it specifically because it had a little cupid drawing on top. "i hope you like chocolates."

"oh, i love-" eros gaze dropped to the heart shaped box and suddenly, his heart seized. as if he had just been shot by his own arrow. you had given him valentine chocolates. cute. he couldn't explain why his tummy exploded with butterflies at the simple action but he felt the blood rush to his cheeks. he had to remember to breathe and when he did, he breathed out "-you."

🪽HERMES falls for you when you kiss him on the cheek

☛ "when are you finished?" hermes whined for the fifth time in the last minute and pulled his lips into a pout. the only acknowledgment coming from you was a deadpan stare over the edge of your book. not only had he come by unannounced and without a reason, now he was annoying you in your scheduled reading time. and as if that wasn't bad enough, he also looked so cute doing it you felt the urge to kick his face that currently invaded your private zone by burying itself in your tummy.

"come back in half an hour and maybe i'll be finished then," you murmured, already invested in your book again.

"half an hour?!" hermes cried dramatically and sneaked his arms around your waist. "but I'm busy!"

"hm, is that right?" you sighed and nudged his shoulder. "get back to work and leave me alone, then."

"come on," he said and a sly smile took over his face. "dont'cha want to come with me? fly over a few countries, live in the flash for a day... it would be far more exciting than your book!"

"my book is very exciting," you mumbled, already caught up in the story again. not for long, though, as hermes began to complain under his breath, muffled by your belly that still served as his pillow. you peaked past your book and couldn't help but find the sight utterly endearing. when he looked up, you quickly hid behind your book again and heard him laugh.

your face burned up when the affectionate god sat up, only to prop himself down next to you and lean his head on your shoulder. "do you know for how long you have been reading this one page? ten minutes,"

"oh, and why might that be?" you grinned, though his teasing tone tinted your cheeks pink. "maybe because this pain-in-the-ass of a god won't leave me alone."

"admit it, you have fallen for me," he retorted, poking your side with his deft fingers. "and you will miss me dearly when i am gone, impatiently awaiting my return so i can whisk you away as i do in your daydreams."

"well, you are quite the dreamer," you mused and put your book down. "let's make a deal. today i read this book, tomorrow i am all yours. 'mkay?" and to silence any further protests, you pressed a kiss to his cheek and pushed him off the bed.

you expected a retort, another teasing comment, anything, which was why you were confused by the following silence. looking over the edge of your bed, you found him sitting there, looking up at you dumb-struck and with very rosy cheeks. the spot where you had kissed him tingled and hermes head was wiped clean of any funny reply, just full of you, you, you and the feeling of your lips on his cheek.

"i- okay," he finally managed to say and walked over to your windows with weak knees. falling for him my ass. he was head over heels in love with you.

🗡️ARES falls for you when you slap someone

☛ your smile was so tight your cheekbones were aching, but you kept your calm. if ares, who would yell at a pigeon staring at him in the park and almost give your mom a heart attack when he started a fight at the last family get-together you invited him to, could restrain himself right now, you could as well. firsthand, you knew how protective ares was of his friends and family, you belonging to the former. for him to not remodel the face of your ex whom your mom had invited to her birthday party and who had cheated on you twice, it had to take a lot of meditation and begging from you.

but now it looked like you were about to violate your own principles. by violating the absolute train wreck of a bad person that was your ex. luckily, ares was in some other corner of the room, having a stare-down with your dad, but you felt like you could mess this man up real good even without his help. you were really not one for violence -ignoring the odd choice of plus one- but right now you felt rage burn inside you as this pathetic excuse of a man tried to rile you up to boost his ego.

"listen, i think i'm going to go grab me a drink now," you said, overplaying your anger with a stiff politeness this piece of trash didn't deserve. "nice talk."

"yeah, whatever," the guy drawled. "back to that hunk of a date you brought, huh? i see your going for the looks now. not that you ever cared about anything else, you girls are all the same."

"if i was going off of looks i would have never dated you," you bit back and turned around to leave when his sweaty hand closed around your wrist tightly. "hey, let go!" you hissed but he didn't budge, only stepping closer so all you could smell was his excessive deodorant.

"what, does he fuck better than me?" he snarled and lowered his voice. the hand that wasn't holding your wrist hostage wandered down your back where you definitely didn't want it. "wanna give it a second try?"

SMACK

before you yourself knew it, you had struck him across the face with your free hand, resulting in a sound that made the room fall silent, all eyes in you two. as your ex stumbled back, he let go of your wrist and you locked eyes with ares, expecting him to jump at the opportunity for a fight. but instead, you only saw him looking at you, with a sort of awe-struck expression that really didn't suit the occasion.

you lifted your chin, shouldered your purse and brushed past ares as you hastily walked towards the exit. ares had to collect himself before following you. your anger, that fire in your eyes, the way you had struck this pathetic mortal man- it was more than hot. oh he definitely was in love with you. he would deal with this piece of crap later. now, all he wanted was to follow you to his car, follow you anywhere, as long as it was with you.

[simpxxstan]

seventeen and their love languages!!

maknae line version (read the hyung line version here!)

dokyeom

to him: physical touch (he's a softboy. he just needs some recharge-time cuddling with you. and naturally touchy as he is, a mere hand on his arm or your hands interlinked with his makes him feel so much better.)

from him: words of affirmation (if he's making you smile, his day is made. he needs nothing else.)

mingyu

to him: physical touch (he's so naturally physically affectionate. BIG on pda. it would mean the world to him if you accept and reciprocate his need for physical contact as a primary source of strength.)

from him: acts of service (is a giver. he will give and give and give- his time, his energy, his efforts, his love. will not let you do anything if he can do it. what does he spend so many hours in the gym for, after all?)

minghao

to him: quality time (that lover who respects your personal space, but would truly be overjoyed if you spent time with him. it can be just reading a movie together, listening to a podcast together, or even travelling to work together. if you're with him without any distractions, he's happy.)

from him: words of affirmation (so good with his words. he's a poet, and he will wax poetry for you incessantly. no matter what your mood is, he will know exactly how to uplift it.)

seungkwan

to him: words of affirmation (by nature, he's an overthinker. hence, he loves it when you reassure him that he's doing the right things and isn't hurting anyone through his actions. also loves it when you reassure him about his insecurities.)

from him: words of affirmation (seungkwan has a way with his words. he won't sugarcoat his words for you. nor will he speak lies. but he'll deliver the truth straightforwardly and make you feel infinitely healed.)

vernon

to him: quality time (as someone who enjoys being in his comfort zone and within his close circle, he'd really appreciate it if you could make time for him to indulge your common interests.)

from him: gifts (yeah no, he's ordering everything he sees online for you. at least this way, someone will be able to open parcels of things he orders, is what he tells you when you protest.)

chan

to him: acts of service (he thinks he falls for you even more whenever you try to put in some effort to help him out in any way possible. it's the thought that counts- but also as a persistent perfectionist, he appreciates any little help you give him in making his daily life easier.)

from him: quality time (chan understands the value of spending time together doing things you both enjoy. as a chronically offline person, he prefers to distance himself from distractions and give his entire focus to you.)

[askthe-littlepoet]

A black envelope, sealed with red wax is left at your doorstep. Oddly enough, you cannot open it without ripping the envelope.

The letter inside reads:

"I found something you left me recently.

A letter, I think it's old. I'm not even sure if you remember writing it.

It felt like digging up a box of old childhood toys, the ones that used to be your favorite. You know the feeling, right? You pick them up, dust them off and gently hold them in your hands, as if the time had made them fragile...

Then, you remember all of the fond memories you had with them, all of the tenderness, love, and care that you had put into them. And it's still there, exactly the way you left it. Well, maybe only as a reminder of a time you'll never get back, but still, it's there.

It's a little saddening, isn't it? Finding something that you had once loved so dearly, forgotten to collect dust inside of a box as if it never mattered in the first place. Makes you wonder what else in your life you were willing to give up so easily.

But I don't think that's a fair comparison to you, Poet. Toys get boring after a while, they're easy, disposable. The only value they could ever have is how fun they were in the past.

And you? Quite the opposite."

"- Lamb"

( @askacultleader )

(Bringing the envelope inside, they head to their study, taking a seat, and beginning to fumble with their drawer, looking for an letter opener to tear said envelope open.)

(They begin to do just that, before they read the message in it's entirety, before folding the letter up, placing it in a breast pocket.)

"..."

"...where did the time go? Hah..."

(A lone, silent tear wells in their eye, as their head slumps down, resting in their hands.)

"...hah, hah."

[pureastrologywisdom]

𝔄𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔬 𝔬𝔟𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔳𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰

If you have any placements in virgo, WRITE THINGS DOWN. You are influenced by mercury as Virgo's planetary ruler, however you are also an earth sign. You cannot handle that fast paced energy of Mercury as well as gemini. You need to lament on things decisions/ideas a little longer. You prefer to take your time. instead of having those thoughts bouncing around your head, calm yourself by getting them on paper. You also naturally have an ability for writing.

Having your moon in the 11th house is such an underrated placement. The 11th house is one of the houses that is about people as a collective. Having your moon here you have a really easy time connecting with people, people will regard you as genuine and comforting. Along with this the 11th house is also the house of gains. This shows that often people will their moon here find gains through their emotions, whether that be success, recognition for their work, or becoming known for this. I have seen this in a lot of creative peoples charts, or people who have been known for their emotional displays in some form. For example, Billie Ellish, Oprah Winfrey, Elizabeth Taylor, Martin Luther King, Fiona Apple, Ryan Gosling. There is a skill here of really being able to connect with a mass of people or the collective.

Neptune in the 3rd house is a placement that I don't hear spoken about too often. But it's one of my favourites. These people Can be soft spoken and have a beautiful voice, spoken and sometimes signing also. Along with this they are incredibly enchanting hone they speak, there is something captivating about how they communicate. People will hang on their every word. Neptune is the higher octave of Venus which gives these people a way with their words, very creative. These people are often signers or poets or simply incredibly good at inciting emotions when they speak. There is almost something magical, as if they are casting a spell in a way. Its vulnerable, seductive and dreamy energy.

An aspect I like to see in a birth chart is a Quincunx. Whilst this might seem like a funny thing to say, considering that this aspect can be a difficult energy to harmonise, I actually enjoy the juxtaposition it brings to a person. It gives someone a quality that, at first glance or even when getting to know them, is quite unexpected. A little surprise. Something that takes people back, some nuance. I makes someone interesting and sometimes even misunderstood. As mentioned it can even be hard for these people themselves to undertones these opposite sides/needs within themselves.

Thank you for reading all,

Pureastrowisdom x

P.S.

Chart reading not available, I have around 5 spaces left for this month

Dm me if you are interested in...

Big three reading - £6

~ a good intro to astrology and exploring your chart

Self connection reading - £20

~ a deeper understanding of your chart. I use your chart as medium for you to have a deeper connection with yourself, focusing on self love, self worth and self appreciation

[semperardens-juli]

The friends [Wordsworth and Coleridge] ...... "follow the fluxes and refluxes of the mind when agitated by the great and simple affections of our nature.''

William Wordsworth and Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Lyrical Ballads (1798-1800) taken from The Literature Book: Big Ideas Simply Explained, by James Canton (x)

leave a little kindness (x)

[centrally-unplanned]

There are two big "AI Art Discourse" events of note recently, which I thought were interesting: ACX's "AI Art Turing Test" and the new paper on "AI Poetry Beating Human Poetry". Both of these I think reveal the shape of "what is AI art for", and also say a lot about how these results were utilized in discourse.

To take the latter first, some academics quizzed people on some poetry and had these results:

We found that AI-generated poems were rated more favorably in qualities such as rhythm and beauty, and that this contributed to their mistaken identification as human-authored. Our findings suggest that participants employed shared yet flawed heuristics to differentiate AI from human poetry: the simplicity of AI-generated poems may be easier for non-experts to understand, leading them to prefer AI-generated poetry and misinterpret the complexity of human poems as incoherence generated by AI.

More human than human poems! This certainly seems impressive - and it is. You couldn't have gotten these results ~5 years ago. But that maybe doesn't mean as much as you might think? Because here is the opening half of the winning "Walt Whitman AI" Poem:

I hear the call of nature, the rustling of the trees, The whisper of the river, the buzzing of the bees, The chirping of the songbirds, and the howling of the wind, All woven into a symphony, that never seems to end. I feel the pulse of life, the beating of my heart, The rhythm of my breathing, the soul's eternal art, The passion of my being, that burns with fervent fire, The urge to live, to love, to strive, to reach up higher. I see the beauty all around, the glory of the earth, The majesty of mountains, the miracles of birth, The wonder of the cosmos, the mysteries of the stars, The poetry of existence, that echoes near and far

This fucking sucks. Straight up 2/10 poem. Did this bitch seriously establish the world's most predictable rhyme scheme only to try to rhyme wind with end? You had one job that you chose for yourself, and you screwed it up! This poem has been written a million times before, and says nothing - the Miley Cyrus lyrics of verse.

The reason this won is, yes, because AI tools have advanced heavily in the past few years. But it is also because it is being tested on a dead art. No one cares about poetry - certainly not the survey respondents:

We asked participants several questions to gauge their experience with poetry, including how much they like poetry, how frequently they read poetry, and their level of familiarity with their assigned poet. Overall, our participants reported a low level of experience with poetry: 90.4% of participants reported that they read poetry a few times per year or less, 55.8% described themselves as “not very familiar with poetry”, and 66.8% describe themselves as “not familiar at all” with their assigned poet. 

"Or less" is doing a LOT of work there; "yeah I read a few nonfiction books a year" oh sure, totally. 90% of these respondents haven't read a poem that wasn't displayed in the end credits of Minecraft since high school. No one does, poetry as a medium is essentially a relic. That isn't an insult to poets, by the way! There is no shame in being a niche. Not everyone can have the reach of hentai doujin artists; the community is small but they get a ton out of it. But you can't take the art of the community and expect that art to hit outside of it.

This survey didn't ask people to evaluate art; it asked people to evaluate their stereotypical impression of an art they don't care about. It was ~600 people hired off a website, they banged it out ASAP and moved on. This is not to invalidate the results; I am not actually claiming that "real" poets would have scored much better? Maybe, I don't know - that just isn't very relevant.

Let's swing to the AI Art Turing Test results to get more into why. Again, AI art is absolutely "art" in the sense that it is able to pass the test handily. You have to be head-in-the-sand at this point to think that AI can't make an impressionist painting a la the "most liked" art in this contest:

I have seen the "well real paintings have physicality this is a jpeg" discourse points and the cope couldn't be more real - 99% of art consumption in the modern world is digital or at least prints, let's get you back to bed grandma. But I did find it pretty funny that Scott noted this AI piece as one he particularly liked:

Because it is nonsensical, right? All that "faded paint", how was it originally painted - just bucket splashes of red and blue? What are those random doors, the random stairs going nowhere on the sides, the vague-nothings engravings? Scott just didn't care about that - he liked the vibe, right? Ancient ruins, epic scale. It isn't a coincidence that the Impressionist art did the best - current AI tools are always impressionist, they have an idea of the vibe and invent the details in between. In Impressionism that is the whole point.

Now the trap is to go "REAL artists can tell because of this or that" because idk, the tools might get better, they might fill in more and more details. The real revelation here is that you don't need the tools to get better - visual art isn't so different from poetry. Most people don't pay attention to it all that much. You see thousands, thousands of pieces of art a week; you probably don't even realize how many. Do you really care if the fading paint makes coherent sense on a billboard ad or a doctor's office wall painting? So much art that is made is "industrial" in this sense - it has no need to be good. Only good enough to fulfill its utilitarian role. In these fields AI absolutely is going to Take Your Jobs in some form, and already is (though imo not a ton of them). And it won't really bother most people. This can go pretty deep - I promise you people are "utilizing" AI porn right now. They are ~appreciating the details~ way more than is typical, the product is working.

All this works until it doesn't, though. When it is an art book by a favourite artist whose vision you want to pour over, learning that all the individual details were just made by AI completely defeats the purpose, right? Imagine reading a book of these poems. Outside of the novelty, "AI is the point" factor you would rather watch infomercials on repeat, I can't imagine a more pointless use of my time. "Reading arbitrary poems" is never fun, regardless of the quality of the poems. Most people don't care about poetry! The reason you care is that you care about the poet, and what they want to say. You read poetry with context, it being inserted with intent into the pages of a manga, at the end of a video game, because you like the artist and follow them on twitter. The quality of the prose isn't more important than that.

Which is a harsh limit for all of these kinds of tests. They essentially aren't testing art, right? You do not ever get paid twenty bucks to sit down and read a dozen poems and score them. That has no bearing on how you would actually ever learn to care about a poem. Which doesn't make AI art useless or anything, more that these tests will very quickly run into their limits of what they can meaningfully tell you. The actual bar is "creating something someone cares about". From that lens, I fully believe hybrid methods that privilege artistic intent are currently working and will improve. But I think for "solo" AI art getting that to work is going to be complicated.

[familiarquotation]

There's the raccoon in his fog, there the man to his fireside, and both are lonesome for God

Jack Kerouac, Big Sur