really love dynamics that are like 'it honestly doesn't matter if you view them as romantic or platonic, the point is that they love each other. the type of love is inconsequential, all that matters is that it's there'. gotta be one of my favorite genders.
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I simply don't think that's true eBooks.com but thank you anyway
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why is religious Christmas imagery all so joyful and pleasant? where is the inherent horror of the birth of Christ? A mother is handed her newborn child, wailing and innocent. Her hands come away sticky. Red. Simply by giving her son life she has already killed him. He is doomed from the beginning. Her love will not save him from suffering. Because the thing cradled in her arms is not a baby, it is a sacrifice: born amongst the other bleating animals whose blood will one day be spilled in the name of what demands it. the night is silent with anticipation. Mary, did you know? That your womb was also a grave?
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I keep thinking about this discussion I was watching the other day where two people were talking about tattoos and how people say younger people shouldn't be allowed to get tattoos because "they might regret them later."
One of the people spoke up and said something along the lines of that if she got a tattoo when they were younger and regretted it later, they didn't think that meant they shouldn't have been allowed to get the tattoo.
Because her younger self deserved the right to get that tattoo and enjoy it, even if they didn't like it 100 evolutions of character later. Their younger self still deserved the right to make that choice, just like her [insert age] self deserves the right to get tattoos their 90 year old self would despise. It would be a disrespect to claim otherwise.
Your younger self deserved the right to your body just as much as you do now, even if you don't like or agree with what they did with it.
What a beautiful mentality that applies to so many things.
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okay okay okay one more dungeon meshi thought
I keep seeing people saying Falin is "better at social cues" than Laios. Y'all she's just quiet. 😭 She just keeps her mouth shut. 😭😭 Girl was proposed to, said "let me think about it," and then did not even tell her own brother. She doesn't know what's going on either she's just quieter about it!!! 😭😭😭
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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.
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