#like. someone needs to be fucking Hurt
im going to commit a felony
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the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.
three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.
two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.
their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.
one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.
i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.
i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.
and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?
you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.
a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.
someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.
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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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"See you tomorrow"
MDZS Disco Elysium AU part 4 [prev parts]
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Keep scrolling if you blame Spider
Spider, who is literally still a child by human standards.
Spider, who never gave away Jake's or the Omatikaya's location.
Spider, who cares about the Sullys' safety over his own.
Spider, who didn't want any blood on his hands or a guilty conscience if he left someone to die.
Spider, who just didn't want anyone else to get hurt.
Spider, who never betrayed the Na'vi (unlike Jake but hey, who's counting that, right?)
Spider, who had to fend for himself to survive the toughest events because he didn't have an adult who would tear the world apart for him like the Sully children do.
Spider, who loves Pandora and Eywa.
Spider, who just wanted to be one of Her children because he never knew what it was like for a mother to love him.
Spider, who probably understands Eywa's whole "balance of life" meaning more than others.
Spider, who already lost Neteyam but he couldn't afford to lose anyone else in his life, no matter how terrible they are as a person.
Spider, who helped Jake save Kiri and Tuk when everyone else was still too shocked to move.
Spider, who chose mercy over violence/death.
Spider, who did what he could to survive (I'd like to see how YOU would react under such pressure. It all seems obvious and easy watching from the other side of the screen, right?)
Spider, who was likely being misled, brainwashed, and gaslit by the Recoms.
Spider, who is clearly a victim but hey, let's blame him for simply being a decent human being, right?
Spider, who likely thought he owed Quaritch after he saved him from being tortured.
Spider, who likely thought he owed Quaritch for giving him life.
Spider, who just wanted a father who was proud of him.
Spider, who has been clearly neglected by the heroes (Jake and Neytiri) but doesn't openly or verbally blame them.
Spider, who doesn't purposely threaten children's lives like Quaritch and Neytiri do.
Spider, who just wanted to be one of the People.
Spider, who wouldn't have made those difficult choices had he been properly loved and raised.
Spider, who is as easy to blame as Lo'ak for endangering the people they love (but again, no one's counting, right?)
Spider, who is clearly not a villain, just misunderstood.
Spider, who wasn't raised by the village but didn't burn it down to feel its warmth because he's not petty, not vindictive, not evil, and not a killer.
Spider, who is. A. Child.
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THAT
the last tag
the # its not what Ghost needs at least
does Ghost ever tell Die that ? how does Die feel about it ? in your opinion, what *does* our Ghostie boy need ?
This is just my opinion and character analysis but what Ghost needs is a safe harbor, someone that he doesn't have to be Ghost with. What Hell thinks he needs is another weapon in his arsenal, and someone to cover his back(because the man is imho probably not taking great care of himself).
Die is a great compliment to Ghost, she's vicious, tactically smart, and enjoys her work. She's not, however, a good compliment to Simon; a man who's already gone through hell and doesn't need or want the reminder. A man who I think holds a lot of complex feelings over the man that he's become as Ghost, and who is desperately clinging to the idea that he's doing evil for the greater good.
Ghost is avoiding you. Which is a real testament to his abilities if you’re being honest. You’re quite literally tied to his soul and somehow he’s still managing to keep you from catching him. You thought things were going well. You finally got a decent meal, Ghost got to let out some of the meaner thoughts he’s had about you --you’re not examining that-- and everything should be totally good. Peachy even. So why the hell is your lieutenant dismissing you and brushing you off at every turn. You can’t even creep into his thoughts, he’s shut up tighter than a vault.
Soap catches Ghost's arm in the gym, "You seen Die, I had a question."
"Haven't seen 'er all morning." Ghost tells him evenly.
"Liar," You whisper in his ear. He swats at you, smacking your arm where you're hanging on his shoulders. You know he prefers not having you draw attention, but it's a small team. It's not like they don't know about the devil literally on his shoulder by now.
"Right," Soap says, like he doesn't quite believe him, "That why your shadow's all-" He motions with his hand. Ghost glances over his shoulder, then at the ground, checking what Soap means. You wave a hand, your shadow following the motion. Ghost groans.
"Alright off of me, go on." He shrugs his shoulders and you drop back into his shadow with a pout.
“What’s your question?” You pull yourself up from the darkness, sitting on the edge and trying to give Ghost the same cold shoulder.
“How do I get one o’ ya’?” Soap asks. That’s an easy one, even if it is outside of your jurisdiction.
“You don’t,” Ghost cuts in before you can say anything. You turn quickly to face him and he’s not even looking at you, “Die, dismissed.” You open your mouth to say something and he jerks his head to glare at you. Soap looks between the two of you as you finally pull yourself fully from his shadow. Fine. You’ll find something more fun to do than sit around waiting to get a crumb of conversation. You can ignore Ghost just as well as he ignores you.
Except that you can’t. The problem with being bound to someone’s soul is you sort of can’t turn off your connection to them. You’re never off of alert, never not keyed in to Ghost’s heart rate, to his adrenaline, to the sound of his voice. Always prepared to respond to any stimulus or order. It feels unnatural even being just outside the room.
You settle leaning against the wall by the door. Your anxiety and instincts clash, your fingers twisting the fabric of your skirt unsure what to do besides wait to be called on. You don’t know how humans function without each other.
“You don’t want a demon Johnny.” Ghost’s voice filters through everything, “You’re a good man, don’t be so quick to try and give that up.”
There’s a short lived silence as Soap responds.
“I’m not, and that- She’s a bloody testament to it. I can’t even touch her without-” He cuts himself off, unwilling to say it and give the feeling name. But you can feel it, his spike of anxiety, the anger and bitter sadness that rolls through your charge. Then disgust, and suddenly you know why he’s been avoiding you before Ghost can even say it. You represent everything he’s been made into, all the violence brought against him, being forced to laugh at death, to live with death, to claw his way out of a grave to something almost resembling a life. Yet here you are holding the last nail in the coffin of his humanity.
“What else am I supposed to think? You want to know how you get a demon?” Simon takes a shaky breath, you cover your ears even though you know it won’t do any good, “You become such a monster that Hell sends someone to keep an eye on you. So, don’t tell me you want one of those things.”
There’s a commotion from behind the doors, footsteps storming your way. You fix your face, quell your emotions, before the door opens and Ghost comes out. Soap’s still talking, hot on his tail, looking upset.
“-say that Ghost. You think Gaz and Price-” He spots you and stops. You know what he was going to ask, you think it’s nice that he’s so kind. Kind enough to try and spare your feelings. Feelings you don’t have. You’re graded for combat. You’re just another weapon in a vast arsenal. Cold, unfeeling, inhuman. You’re supposed to be, anyway.
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Why the FUCK didn't Sasha apologize to Quinni.
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Aough. Rewatched Goodbye, Farwell, and Amen today...
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On my walk home from the cafe I was thinking about Sanji (as one does) and how every influence in his life for 19 years screamed at him to hunker down, stay silent, and never appear weak.
As much as I love Zeff and know he loved Sanji, it's clear he has such a straight-laced and unflinching view of masculinity and what it means to be a man. The environment on the Baratie was an extension of that.
It was a machismo world where affection was hidden behind kicks to the head and insults. The kind of environment where cutting your hand or something gets a response of "what? You call that an injury? Don't cry over nothing". Where outright kindness has to be dragged out of people, and then immediately covered up with a half-baked insult.
Throw into that environmemt a little boy who is desperate to prove he's not the failure he was told he was, and out pops a man who wears his heart on his sleeve for "acceptable manly emotions" but who hides real emotions behind anger, and hides pain (physical or emotional) altogether so as not to seem weak.
Tack onto that the idea that the only surefire way to show love is through self sacrifice (his mom + Zeff), then of course Sanji will be all sorts of jacked up.
We see throughout the series how Sanji is so unwilling to be vulnerable or to even admit he's feeling hurt at all. Plaster a smile on, make some comment about loving women, and voila! He's the man's man everyone expects. No need to worry about him. After all: he's strong.
...🥺
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You said in tags once that pedophiles and child predators aren't the same, can you explain why? /GEN
For the same reason that people with any kind of attraction to anyone ever aren't all rapists/don't all pursue romantic/sexual feelings that could or definitely would hurt the other person. Because paraphilias are simply the morally neutral state of experiencing attraction and rape/grooming is Not That. Because people *choose* to hurt others, but not what they feel. Because a good majority of child sexual abusers aren't even pathologically/paraphilically attracted to children, they *just want to hurt them because they can.* Because they're dissatisfied with something in life, or want a punching bag, or want to feel powerful, etc etc.
It's not really different conceptually from physical abuse. Do people do it because they have icky feelings about liking blood or violence? No. They do it to feel powerful. Sexual abuse is not about sex but about power. Hope this answers your question. I've answered it a good million times on this blog but eh I'm in a generous mood.
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a REALLY dumb rant about france's design cuz </3
i know hetalia character change over time but i think France's change from s5 to. s7 was downright cruel cuz
he had long soft blond hair!!!! and cutest face!!! he had chest hair!!!! his shirts barely buttoned properly !!!!!
and then we jump to world stars hes just .
like budget aside, who the hell is this..... im not a hater to him having brown hair but it robs him of that romantic vibe? like i know hima draws him a lot differently than the anime but its justtt not the sameee
this is NOT the same bitch
beautiful world france ... oh he was so perfect. he had like the sad but sweet eyes , the long hair, he dressed so nicely that fit his aesthetic and design. having a bow in his hair... !!!!!!
i still love him no matter what but MY god it makes me so sad
also sidenote early seasons france was still cute
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honestly one of the most painful things to see as a religious person is for someone who left your faith to explain why, and its because they misunderstood a major tenet of the belief (or had it misrepresented to them).
like most of the time there's not really anything you can do to help them see it differently or undo all the trauma that the misunderstanding caused, and that sucks. especially when the ex-believer then uses it as proof for why your belief is bad.
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@aluminum-angels i made an entire doodle page just to prove a point
Their relationships do not fail, they get along just fine and they love each other very much
Peace and love among my rw ocs
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seeing a post that gets some things right (interesting complex john thoughts) but other parts dead wrong (bad dean takes) has me like *eye twitch*
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On one hand I'm so so excited for more people to meet mithrun in the anime and go nuts over him.
On the other I am so worried about folks not being cool about their bad ass fucked up fave needing caregivers.
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