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#30 days song challenge
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30/01/23 (346 words)
652 words, 2 pages
Well, it's already giving me problems. I have many things ready, but getting there, making the plot mature enough for them? Man, the beginning of every story is always hard.
I signed up for the Poli test. March 1 at 11am, with 80's. I'm already anxious.
Day 30, last one, a song you want to share. The Pioneers by M83 (the cover of Bloc Party's). The one that comes to my mind now.
Day 30
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7/01/23 (528 words)
26.930 words, 84 pages
Tomorrow tomorrow. Please don't hop it.
So there's this new tea I found at the mall few days ago, that my mother didn't want to get but I put it in the chart and we bought it, white tea with mango and lemon, it smells so GOOD. Doesn't have much taste to be honest but it smells GOOD. I did it properly this evening (water at 80°C, 2-3 minutes of infusion) and oh it was good. Yeah its almost only smell but I love it already.
Day 7, today's song is: a song title that is all in uppercase. WASTE by Kxllswxtch
Day 7
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h3arteyes4mingi · 2 months
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luchicm04 · 1 month
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day 26 - that makes you want to fall in love
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Well, not exactly but, u know...
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feminerds · 7 days
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17 FEB 2024
The MCR that exists inside the minds of obsessives (me) is kind of like the holy mother (Mary) -- it's not the thing or even a representation of that thing anymore. It's not even a simulacra (? I might be pushing it with this - because upon reflection I think I might be describing a simulacra quite accurately actually - haha)
it no longer bears a likeness, really at all. An idol is what the k-pop darlings call it, and that makes sense to me. I feel it's closest to an effigy. An item that has had so much projected upon it, it becomes holy*.
Wholly unrecognisable
GIMME ALL THAT PAIN
That Gucci Scent - The Last Day of Summer
*Holy - to the holder, and item of ultimate projection. Like close reading. Like for what you really collect is always yourself**. Like all fan art, is just art, is just a reflection of self and now. A light bent through the body.
**Baudrillard, The System of Objects
I also saw this 30 day song challenge, the other day and I'm thinking I might do it.
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God help me, do I have an artists' practice at all? Or is my artists practice just hanging out and participating in the goofy little teenage challenges and what-not. Is my artist practice just being a very online teenager for ever?!
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yakny · 8 months
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IT'S ONLY MY ECHO
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pleasestopthese · 7 months
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jerzwriter · 2 months
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Just for fun ... I'm going to post the 30-day Song Challenge here.
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My entry?
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raynerberg · 12 days
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cercasinomeworld · 1 year
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30 Days Kdrama Challenge
Day 6 - Favourite male lead
Vincenzo Cassano (Vincenzo) - Yoo Shi-jin (Descendants of the Sun)
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Park Jae-won (Lovestruck in the City) - Noh Jin-wook (Suspicious Partner)
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Lee Ik-jun (Hospital Playlist)
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29/01/23 (307 words)
307 words, 1 page
Since this will be a short story, I decided to lower the minimum number of words, so as not to rush it. I need time for this one, it doesn't have a real plot, I need to think it all through, and this will surely help.
Subnautica! Subnautica.
Day 28 (because I have to swap 29 and 28) is a song you used to hate but love now. Dang, hate is a strong word.... if I hate a song I will hate it forever and stop. There are, though, songs that I didn't like for a long time and appreciated only later. Levitate and Semi Automatic by Twentyonepilots (...yes, believe it or not) and well! I do love Levitate now, and "only" like Semi Automatic. There's Dark Charade too by Rishloo (oh my god I wouldn't even consider it before this summer, now I sure di LOVE it) and, and... Landmines too still by Rishloo.
Day 28
This is the title of the story. Dark-Crimson-Ethereal.
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therealgchu · 26 days
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30 day song challenge
day 15: a song you like that's a cover by another artist. this will be even MORE controversial than steel panther. Live and Let Die - Guns and Roses
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day 16: a song that's a classic favorite. so, to all you sweet summer children, let me introduce you to the inimitable nina simone.
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h3arteyes4mingi · 1 month
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listen… NOW LISTHEN!! 🧐👆🏻
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a-cosmic-elf · 29 days
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Okay, I will do this one because it’s another chance to post some Muse.
30 Day Song Challenge: Day 14 - a song you’d love to be that was played at our wedding
by our covers band (obvs, I wish we had Muse at our wedding. The dude who sang it did go on to be a huge star with his own band, so that’s our little claim to fame).
People still talk about our wedding, and yes, it might not have been a ‘first dance song’, but it said, and still says, everything about us. And yes, I jumped about like a loon in my wedding dress and heels. It rained hard, and at the end of the night my wedding dress was so muddy it looked like I’d played rugby in it.
But then I was a filthy archaeologist, so ending your day covered in mud wasn’t anything new. Plus, our wedding cake was a three-tiered chocolate monstrosity, served with strawberries, because we both hate fruit cake and fuck tradition (another thing that upset the MiL, she made her own fruit cake, and I just let her because ‘eh’, whatever).
I’ve been lucky to see the real Muse live 4 or 5 times. We always stay for Knights of Cydonia, then sit exhausted, waiting for the crowds to disperse. (Except that one time at the Olympic Stadium, The Simulation Theory tour, where we danced at the top back steps like a pair of idiots and then ran for the tube ahead of 60,000 people 😅)
Oh, the memories.
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luchicm04 · 29 days
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day 27 - that breaks your heart
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ladyhoneydee · 7 months
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30 Day Song(fic) Challenge: Day 1
Today’s fic for my homebrew Song(fic) Challenge is for the prompt “favorite album opener”, and I just had to go with the song “State of Grace” by Taylor Swift, for her album “Red”! The drums and guitar bring on a sensation of motion and autumn that is perfect for the rest of the album, in my opinion.
a gentle wildness
Game: Twilight Princess, post-canon
Pairing: Zelink
Word Count: 817
Keywords: introspection, healing, romantic
“Even if she were to have the gift of prophecy, as ancestresses past had held, she never would have seen him coming.”
Read the fic on Ao3, or under the cut!
She’d been told the stories before she was old enough to walk.
A princess would be born in a castle—that’s you!—and she would be filled with so much goodness and light that it would drizzle from her fingers like raindrops off of a forest leaf. She would sing and the birds would sing back; she would speak and the people would remove their hats just to hear her words a little more clearly. She would grow strong and beautiful and virtuous and full of glory, glory, and she would raise her kingdom—why wasn’t it a Queendom, if she had the blood of the gods? hush now, that’s just not how the story goes—to even greater heights, while she waited for the clouds of evil to cover the sun. 
But she wouldn’t be alone. Because a hero would be born, and he would emerge from the town next to the castle—or a small village on the coast!—or from the hamlet home of a family of royal guardsmen—or the mists of an ancient forest!—and he would walk to the castle with the wind on his back, and he would take her hand, and the gale of his might would drive away the darkening clouds. 
She had been carefully coached on the course her life would take. It was truly unfortunate that she had failed at every turn.
Life? Or death?! 
And the sword had clattered to the marble floor with the metallic toll of a funeral bell. 
Midna…I believe I understand now just who and what you are…
And the light she had so diligently clutched to her chest—even after her own body had vanished in twilight and she had crafted a facsimile so convincing even a feral wolf might stand down in awe—flowed freely from her palms and into the weak frame of a truly beautiful soul, leaving her emptier than a cracked glass. 
It stood to reason that the man who came to her aid would be different than the stories had told her, as well. 
A shepherd. A keeper of flocks, a defender of the weak. A man who had learned the bow to hunt wild rabbits and deer before he ever aimed it between the eyes of a bokoblin; a man who had learned the sword to please his father and entertain his brother, despite neither being a blood relation. He had come to her not tall and strong with the wind at his back, but furred and frenzied with a imp resting upon it; and he had returned to her again with a whine on his tongue and a begging tail between his legs and the imp on his back gone inky blue with pooling blood and shadow beneath her skin; and he had taken her hand like an equal when at last she saw him on two legs rather than four. 
He may have been blessed by the goddesses, but there was not a hint of their marble polish in his touch. His was a gentle wildness all his own. 
Even if she were to have the gift of prophecy, as ancestresses past had held, she never would have seen him coming. 
They had both been wrecked by the fallout of a kingdom crumbled. They bonded over hearts shattered into mosaics, like the mirror of their mutual beloved. Each night, she put herself to bed while tremulously imagining his room empty in the next morning’s light, and the door swinging on its hinges, as he returned where he belonged. Each noon, he took lunch with her in her office, and ferried papers from her desk to her council and back, and looked upon her with such steadfastness she thought she might be sick. 
She was the most warlike queen in an age. Her accuracy with her bow was greater than even the deadliest of her sharpshooters; she trained with a rapier until only the hero could best her. She incorporated armor into her daily dress, so that if she were ever trapped in her throne room again, she could fight her way out without the need to risk everything precious to her. She entered the council room with a savage grace that spoke her determination to do right by her people without a word lilted from her tongue. 
And yet, when he led her by the hand to a quiet room, and four blue eyes and two pairs of chapped lips met in the heartbeat-silence, that armor came crashing down with the wave of the greatest joy she’d ever tasted. 
She had been born to rule with a hand of gold, with her word law writ upon stone. She led instead with scarred palms and an open heart and a grace that came not from the skies above, but was cultivated within.
She walked forward into twilight and daybreak alike with love, a man of gentle wildness at her side. 
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