Political ads: My opponent has jacked up taxes every year since he was elected!
Me: Which taxes? Income? Sales? Property? Business?
Political ads: I promise to hold the line on taxes!
Me: Which taxes? What government programs do those taxes contribute to? What gets cut if the lack of taxation causes a deficit?
Political ads: Think about the taxes!
Me: WHICH TAXES. WHICH TAXES ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT. TELL ME WHO'S ACTUALLY GETTING AFFECTED BY THESE TAXES YOU'RE SO CONCERNED WITH.
Reminder to always ask what it is that people aren't saying in these ads.
A lot of them want you to think that it is your personal taxes as a working-class person that they're talking about. But if it's taxes on the rich that they're "holding the line on," then they're using your desire to survive with a greater portion of your own income as fuel to keep the upper classes from paying their fair share.
I keep getting the same three or four political ads (half aren't even for the district I live in) and I'm frustrated that they use these transparent tactics and that there are probably people that don't have the time or background to take that moment to go 'what are they hoping I hear in this? What are they actually going to do?'
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Today's my birthday!!!! ✨✨
Some vent below
The past few months have been a complet mess for me. First on march, my great aunt who has been diagnosed with cancer for two years sadly passed away, this was no surprise for any of us so I was not as sad about it if I'm honest. A week before this my dad had an accident and broke his talon and had to have surgery, this was the same day my aunt passed. My dad is fine and has healed all good. Now recently, a month ago I think, my cousin, who's I have grown with, same age as me, went to same school and everything, was diagnosed with a tumor on her brain. Was about 8 cm long and was causing her really strong headaches, it needed to be extracted as soon as possible, but the operation was very expensive so our family need to collect money first. We finally met a doctor willing to do the surgery and she was operated the Thursday, I saw her yesterday and she's thankfully doing fine. While we were on this, I felt incredible sick one day while I was on college, to the point I couldn't talk anymore. I went to the neurologist and he told me to get some exams, he diagnosed with athipics migraines and since that day I've been feeling sick and sad, that was on the fifteen. I was really hoping to feel good on my birthday, but that doesn't seem to be the case. I'm writing this on the 27 so I hope I'm feeling better tomorrow on my birthday. Regardless I would still like to thank everyone who welcome me on this place, I really have enjoyed it. I'm really sorry I haven't been able to post anything in a while but with the family, health, college and commission matters it has been really hard.
I hope everyone is having a good day :)
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cw for angst featuring dew and aeon. it's one of those nights, lads uwu
additional tw for self-mutilation ft. short haired dew + fears of abandonment and the desire to cut imagined losses.
"don't look at me," dewdrop begs; he's kneeling shattered on the floor, scraps of his own burnt hair lying dead between his claws while his entire body shivers with the weight of unacknowledged sins.
aeon is quiet—he doesn't know what to do. he's never heard dewdrop beg before, not like this. never like this.
"wh-why?" he asks, soft. fragile. as though the sound of his voice would extinguish the embers of dewdrop's flame if he spoke too loudly. "what's wrong?" he asks again, genuine in his curiosity and fear.
there's smoke falling from the gaps between dewdrop's teeth. it reminds the runt of the haze of a cigarette he shared with a brother of blasphemy; it reminds him of death, that the brother could die tomorrow from poisoned lungs and aeon would have to move forward with his damnation. it scares him. it smells foul.
"what happened to your hair?" aeon gasps, wide eyes falling on the rotten gold strands in dewdrop's hands.
"i- i don't know," dewdrop sobs, and aeon honestly can't tell if the ghoul is lying or not, "i think i pulled it out."
"why?" aeon asks again. his voice quivers, and the little ghoul wonders if he might start to cry.
"i think- i think i deserved it." decaying gold spills from the spaces between dewdrop's claws. "i think it needed to go."
aeon's quiet, thoughtful. everyone in the ministry knows how prideful dewdrop is of his appearance. whether or not it's a facade is known only to the chosen few—namely mountain and aether, who share a bond with the ghoul that aeon could never hope to worm his way into; he doesn't want to in the first place, it would feel immoral. even rain or swiss don't seem to know the full extent of dewdrop's tendencies, let alone most of the ghoulettes.
but dewdrop's hair is a favorite pastime of everyone in the ministry. aeon can't count how many times he's seen cumulus fawning over how much better he's taking care of it, or the occasional sibling who gets to twirl the sun-kissed strands between their fingers or braid a small section without fear of a revenge prank.
dewdrop's hair, to aeon, is like a physical manifestation of his connection to all those he holds dear.
"can i keep it then?"
"...wh-what?"
"uhm," aeon fumbles; he wasn't expecting his vessel to say such a thought aloud, "can i keep it? your hair, i mean."
"my... my hair?"
"yeah." aeon stumbles closer, though his eyes don't leave dewdrop's once. "i could- uhm, i could take care of it for you. so... so when you want it back, i'll have it. i'll give it back to you when you're ready."
dewdrop's silent, and aeon thinks he might've started quietly crying five minutes ago.
"o...okay."
aeon's crouching besides dewdrop in a manner of seconds; their shoulders bump together and aeon selfishly basks in the dull warmth of his fellow ghoul. he cups his hands, holds them out for dewdrop to drop the burnt strands of hair in. his hands are shaking. aeon wants to hold them once they're done.
"i'll take care of it for you," aeon babbles, though he doesn't care, "when you're ready, you can come back; i'll give them back to you."
aeon can hear the way dewdrop's breath hitches, how dew's skin lingers against his fingers. dewdrop's nose is running, and aeon thinks a glob has dripped onto his wrist; he doesn't care.
'when you're ready, i'll be here waiting for you.'
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