Whatcha readin’?
Tagged by @micewithknives
Currently reading: Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik
Last song: Enemy by Imagine Dragons
Last Movie: Puss in Boots: Last Wish
Currently working on: my Regency dress for my Purim costume. It’ll be my first actual dress I’m making from scratch! Wish me luck!
Tagging: @jewishicequeen, @elite4steffi @coneygoil @mynameisgoliath @joyfulprincessdragonlover54 @howtodrawyourdragon @sassyandclassy94 @giantgirl253 @justaboot and @xdexesx
And (to quote Reid or whoever he reblogged it from) “for the love of god, REPOST do not reblog, otherwise my notifications become a mess”
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So earlier in art class today, someone drew a characters hands in their pockets and mentioned that hands are really like the ultimate end boss of art, and most of us wholeheartedly agreed. So then, our teacher went ahead and free handed like a handful of hands on the board, earning a woah from a couple of students. So the one from earlier mentioned how it barely took the teacher ten seconds to do what I can’t do in three hours. And you know what he responded?
“It didn’t take me ten seconds, it took me forty years.”
And you know, that stuck with me somehow. Because yeah. Drawing a hand didn’t take him fourth years. But learning and practicing to draw a hand in ten seconds did. And I think there’s something to learn there but it’s so warm and my brain is fried so I can’t formulate the actual morale of the lesson.
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if any non-palestinians, especially in ‘the west,’ especially in positions of bodily safety, especially especially whites, are still feeling hopeless and lost about the genocide, may i offer, as gently as possible... get over it. your body is safe. you have been told over and over and over exactly what you can do to help, in exhaustive detail according to your specific social and political position. find out what you should do and do it if you can. if you can’t, that’s on you. find something you can do. stop asking palestinians to tell you what to do; take what is already given. you can find the instructions that have already been so explicitly left for you. you are an adult. your job is to keep moving. you are not allowed to be hopeless — that is a betrayal of everything the palestinian community and its supporters stand for. keep moving. don’t let anyone tell you that anti-zionist means anti-semite. don’t let anti-zionists around you become anti-semites. don’t let islamophobia stand. know that propaganda works and it’s working on you right now. keep moving. you are an adult. your life is yours to care for — that means finding the support you need, which also means knowing the boundaries and needs of those supporting you. you aren’t special. you aren’t alone. keep moving. you are not a hero. you are safe. you have agency. there is nothing you can do that can’t be done by someone else while you recharge. you are part of a collective; no one is looking directly at you. do what you can, and if you can do nothing, make your peace with that. palestine has no time for your shame or your guilt. feel these feelings when they come to you and then move through them.
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Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".
Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"
And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".
Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.
At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.
So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!
Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!
Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!
Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.
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I don’t think yall understand how meaningful it is to have Oliver say “when you close your eyes it all feels the same” (kissing on screen). The fact that he doesn’t laugh it off, or say he had to push through it, or that it was a little weird like other actors have in the past is so incredibly important. This is him portraying a character and his sexuality, and it’s so validating to have the actor do his job the way Oliver has, in such a caring, positive way. It’s the feeling of finally belonging, of blending in when you’ve been marginalized and picked out all your life. Love is love, and a kiss is just a kiss.
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Damian: [brushing his teeth]
The shadow hanging over his shoulder: [Gets its teeth dangerously close to Damian's shoulder]
Damian: [Shoves a toothbrush into said shadow move and starts brush]
The shadow: [Pauses before starting to let out a contented purr]
Damian then spits out the foam and washes out his mouth, then makes the shadow do the same and then picks out pjs.
Damian: [Currently decided if he should go with the cat, dog, or knife imprinted one]
The shadow: [Starts getting dangerously close to Damian with, toxic green spirals it calls eyes]
Damian: [Throws the dog imprinted one behind him at the shadow and takes the cat imprinted one for himself and tells the shadow to put it on]
The shadow: [Stares at the clothes before hesitantly putting them on before letting out a noise of distress]
Damian: [Turning around to find the shadow somehow stuck in the pjs, lets out a sigh, then starts to help them fit]
Damian then moves over to the bed, he points to one side and tells the shadow to go there. The shadow listens, laying down as Damian also lays down, grabbing the sheets and covering them both.
It barely took a few seconds for the shadow to fall asleep, and Damian stared at it. Damian wasn't quite sure why the shadow of his dead twin was following him, nor why it was even able to and seemed to hide itself from anyone who isn't Damian.
Nobody besides him knew about it, and Damian decided that he liked it. This could have been his younger brother, if the other had survived, and they would have probably been told to fight to the death to decide an heir.
At the very least, that won't ever happen.
Even if his brother was slightly unusual.
===
Danny did not remember much of the before, he remembered people with blurred faces and features, blurred colors. He remembered a lot of colors, then red, then white, then pain.
He doesn't like pain, he believes.
Then he remembered going to sleep, and then he woke up. It was dark and slimy and cramped when he woke up, especially when he realized someone else was in their with him.
Then he fell asleep again, then woke up to that same dark and slimy place, then fell asleep again, all in some weird cycle. Then, moving, and pain.
It hurt, and he was sluggish when it eventually stopped. Then came pain again, and he was asleep.
Then he woke up, again.
He didn't know what was happening, wasn't really aware of too. But he woke up next to the other who was in that dark and slimy with him, and decided he wanted to stay with them.
He wasn't aware enough for most of the things that happened when Damian grew up, but he still stayed regardless, and hide from everyone else.
Danny loves his brother, and he thinks his brother loves him too. Even if he was slightly unusual.
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The way Cleo-Scott-Martyn-Gem-Pearl and Grian-Jimmy-Scar-Impulse both independently had a lying in a circle on the floor moment but the vibes COULD NOT be more different
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