ngl those blogs that are just [thing] heratige blog or like the ones that like put a price on a post or like add a sentance to make it a dnd item or scenario or whatever really bother me and honestly make me not want to rb the post
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it is all chaos and entropy. the thing is that the chaos and entropy make it beautiful and lovely.
yes, it's true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is terrifying. i have lived through some of the unfairness - i got born like this, with my body caving into itself, with this ironic love of dance when i sometimes can't stand up for longer than 15 minutes. i am a poet with hands that are slowly shutting down - i can't hold a pen some days. recently i found a dead bird on our front porch. she had no visible injuries. she had just died, the way things die sometimes.
it is also true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is wonderful. the sheer happenstance that makes rain turn into a rainbow. the impossible coincidence of finding your best friend. i have made so many mistakes and i have let myself down and i have harmed other people by accident. nature moves anyway. on the worst day of my life she delivers me an orange juice sunset, as if she is saying try again tomorrow.
how vast and unknowing the universe! how small we are! isn't that lovely. the universe has given us flowers and harp strings and the shape of clouds. how massive our lives are in comparison to a grasshopper. the world so bright, still undiscovered. even after 30 years of being on this earth, i learned about a new type of animal today: the dhole.
chance echoing in my life like a harmony between two people talking. do you think you and i, living in different worlds but connected through the internet - do you think we've ever seen the same butterfly? they migrate thousands of miles. it's possible, right?
how beautiful the ways we fill the vastness of space. i love that when large amounts of people are applauding in a room, they all start clapping at the same time. i love that the ocean reminds us of our mother's heartbeat. i love that out of all the colors, chlorophyll chose green. i love the coincidences. i love the places where science says i don't know, but it just happens.
"the universe doesn't care about you!" oh, i know. that's okay. i care about the universe. i will put my big stupid heart out into it and watch the universe feast on it. it is not painful. it is strange - the more love you pour into the unfeeling world, the more it feels the world loves you in return. i know it's confirmation bias. i think i'm okay if my proof of kindness is just my own body and my own spirit.
i buried the bird from our porch deep in the woods. that same day, an old friend reaches out to me and says i miss you. wherever you go, no matter how bad it gets - you try to do good.
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Hey! I keep seeing your art on Pinterest. I was wondering if your okay with people reposting your art?
I’m super okay with it! Honestly I get pretty excited seeing my art up on Pinterest, it’s feels like an honour in a weird way my art is Pinterest re-upload worthy
From what I’ve seen too, most credit me, so as long as the Pinterest post is credited properly, I don’t mind the reposting at all! ^^
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As much as I love Tommy calling Buck 'Evan', it also kind of feels like an omen.
(Bear with me a little, the buck/evan distinctions get a bit uhh).
Canon reasoning aside, as symbolism, it's clear-cut. Evan is the man Buck used to be, the kid he used to be, and with this piece of himself finally falling into place, there's some healing to be had for that past version of Buck as well. It's the start of a journey, and Buck can't make it if Evan doesn't as well.
And I've seen Buck referred to as a mask, a protection of Evan, but I think he's the man Evan evolved into. He got the nickname in the fire academy and never looked back, and there's something obvious about the way he stopped being Evan just as he became a firefighter and found his place with the 118. (Buck 1.0 was a mask, at least in part, but that's another story.)
For years, he has been Buck. Maddie is the only one who knew him when he was Evan, and she does call him by his name sometimes. There's also Eddie's infamous listen-to-me-goddamnit line. But that line during the will reveal works because 'Evan' is so jarring, not just to the viewers, but to Buck himself too. Even in s6, Chimney calls him Evan in front of the Buckley parents, and Buck is in the background looking confused as hell. It's not his name anymore, not really.
And I guess what I'm trying to say with all this is that Tommy calling him Evan (while cute) feels like it sets up the relationship to end. Because Evan doesn't really exist anymore; he's a part of Buck, certainly. All of us carry our past selves around, we're never really free of the people we used to be. But Buck grew beyond Evan, he grew up a bit and found his place in the world.
He's back to being Evan now that he's finding his footing with this new facet of himself. But in everything else he's still Buck. And I'm not sure it's insignificant.
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whatever you do, don't think about how lana saw herself in edgeworth, ok? don't think about how she wanted to distance herself from him the moment they met because he could possibly see through the sl-9 plan and ruin everything, but she couldn't because he was kind, if not a little awkward, to her terrified sister in a case where everyone else's only concern was securing a conviction. don't think about how she brought ema to the prosecutor's office (because she damn well wasn't going to let her sister face this alone) with her hackles raised and her defences bolstered because she'd heard about the "demon prosecutor" and his ways just to realise he's nothing but a young man, trying his best to survive under the weight of his mentor's shadow and ensure justice is served by whatever means he can. don't think about how she felt later, when she was under gant's thumb and knew for a fact that all those rumours surrounding von karma's perfect record were, in fact, true and that he was using edgeworth's faith in him to fulfill his own goals. don't think about how she felt when she had to begin doing the same. or what must have gone through her head when she entered her office one morning to find a case approval form waiting for her on her desk: the state v. miles edgeworth. don't think about how she knew, once she saw the name of the prosecutor assigned to his case, that she was signing his death warrant. don't imagine what she rehearsed saying to his sister or her realisation, after his miraculous survival, why he had been so understanding of her own. don't wonder, as she did, ineffectually, if it was his competence or her fondness for him that led to his car and knife being chosen to cover goodman's murder — a second attempt at his permanent removal — and whether it was affection or guilt that made her stand by the corpse, waiting readily to be caught in his stead. don't think about how she finds out, eventually, that he is gone, in a jail cell so far from remorse, gratitude and closure that she can only sit and turn in her head distorted thoughts about luck and fortuitous third chances. don't.
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