This post is your reminder that you are not obligated to blog about current events.
Things are bad. Really bad. Do not let people guilt trip you into tormenting yourself even further over the fact that things are bad. Doomscrolling is not activism.
If you're just on tumblr to blorbopost or reblog pretty pictures, you are not harming people by inaction.
You are not a bad person for not dedicating every aspect of your life and leisure space to whatever disgusting mask-off attack on human life and dignity some government has decided to enact.
Take action where you can, but don't confuse doomscrolling and digital self harm for action.
If you need to lose yourself in blorboposting, go for it.
If you need to log off for the day, whether it's to take irl action or to protect what little sanity any of us have left over the past 7 years, then by all means, do.
Morale is important. Hope is important. Small joys keep us from burning out completely in times like this. Do not let any "if you don't reblog this I'm judging you" guilt trip convince you otherwise.
57K notes
·
View notes
There are three count them three modern pieces of media that I consider to be basically the modern equivalent to the tradition of poetic heroic epics, i.e. Gilgamesh, Homeric, arthuriana, etc.
The first and easiest is superhero comics. Self explanatory.
The second is unfortunately all nine Star Wars movies, plus andor and Rogue One. The rest are less exercises in storycrafting and more the quickest and easiest possible cashgrabs guided by production priorities and nostalgia bait and not thematic execution. Yes I know that also describes the last three Star Wars movies, that’s why I said unfortunately.
The third is the WHEEL OF TIME yes that’s right this is just another post of me saying why people should read and/or watch the wheel of time congratulations. I think Rand al’Thor and Achilles would get along. I would include Arthur Paendrag in this but I KNOW he and Rand would get along great because he is already IN the wheel of time. Just like every other concept that anyone has ever said ‘I wish more fantasy did this’ Robert Jordan already did that shit and he started in the 90s!!!
19 notes
·
View notes
kerosene and other dietary supplements
there’s a dryness in the center of bite wounds, the ones that can’t get all the way through
teeth and saliva and blood; that little semi-circle of perfect fifths
but the skin between remains unblistered, unbroken, dry and calm
it’s funny, as long as a morgue kicking laughter into grief is a joke
if it's still humor when the ouroboros reaches the end of its tail and stares back at itself
eyes and recognition and fear meeting for a second
the moment it takes for a jaw to widen, eyes rolling back in the lunge
and the snake is lust, it is doubt and a choking scream and violence
so tightly coiled it must forfeit sight to part its teeth
directionless and thrashing and begging for someone to do that again
take up shed blade and intent and for god’s sake aim for something important
but mostly it sleeps in your chest, and mostly it isn’t a snake, and mostly you live around it
and it’s not lust
it is anger, enough pain and blood and guilt and violence for a lifetime
astounding what you can fit into fifteen minutes with a little depersonalization and a paring knife
still not lust
but there is a sex to it
something in the movement, in the quiet desperate shuffling
because it’s sex and it's grief and you don't even have to cry during
it’s sex and it's the closest you can get to dying without drawing attention to yourself
it’s tearing your skin down to brass tacks because maybe if you can get at the support hooks you can talk them into fitting correctly
it’s standing in the basin of a church parking lot on a thursday afternoon
slamming god’s finest car door into your forearm until it remembers who it belongs to
it hurts like godfire and it’s the closest thing you can have to sex without taking your clothes off
and it’s lust the same way that shallow midnight anguish is lust
it’s lust like an apology that stalls out, somewhere between bile and teeth
like a rotting pomegranate, like a dead spider, blood and skin and eyes
smeared ever so slightly between your palm and the hole it was trying to escape to
it’s lust for as long as anger has to be yelling
has to seethe and bare teeth and throw plates at raised arms
as long as anger does not realize how to smile, to placate, to pray
(as long as i love you has to be true)
as long as you have to stare unblinking into the wound before it’s allowed to kill you
allowed to pus and rot and burrow through flesh until there isn’t any
lust like a maggot cupped gently into a corpse, bathed in sunlight
it’s lust because the grief counsellor can never dig quite fast enough
hard to keep up with the dirt, armed with your own inertia and twenty court-ordered minutes
and the kind of grief that doesn’t grip the silverware drawer to hurt other people
they never get to weapons made of strangers
to clothing that debrides skin if you fold it right, if you ask nicely
to throwing yourself against nails and teeth and flared collarbones
until the bruises start to slide together, till your skin is too stunned to scream at you
it’s violence but not for anybody else
it’s that godless sex that gets you frowned at, by family and holy men
like all this little fucking conundrum was missing was disapproval
and the bite roils in your stomach now, bile creeping up between cracked teeth
they are vicious and eager and can never sink all the way through
‘cause it’s rotting, that dry little center
and you can’t bring yourself to check just how much progress it’s made
you’ve always looked a little like roadkill, anyway
9 notes
·
View notes
I just thought of an even worse variant of a time loop.
say you're reliving the first of january, 2024. eventually you break out of the loop.
same thing happens on the first of february. you break out.
and again in march. you break out.
and in april.
eventually you break out of the december time loop, and get to new year's eve. you're happy to finally be done with 2024, and ready to embrace 2025.
the clock strikes midnight.
it is the first of january, 2024.
6 notes
·
View notes
Neo time :]
The Little yellow squid had a dream. They were fighting a bear in space! And their little buddy became a big buddy and defeated the bear, isn’t he cool?
The dream was very vivid, so vivid that it stayed in their memory instead of fading away like most dreams. They kept thinking about it all day, while eating breakfast, going to school, and even while eating lunch!
They kept looking around suspiciously, as if someone might attack them from behind. The colour purple caused them to glare. The teacher got worried, but it was just a dream, why do they still remember it so clearly? And why is it so scary?
The Little Yellow Squid could still remember all the details of the dream when they went home. There was music while they were fighting the bear too! It sounded very good, it was a heavenly melody, with many different people singing! The Little Yellow Squid wishes they could hear it again.
The Little Yellow Squid decided to tell their best friend in the whole world about the dream. Little Buddy seemed to light up with excitement and went to grab a pencil and paper. He drew people, one wearing a hat, another in black, and the last in white.
“The Captain, One and Two” The Little Yellow Squid was sure that’s their names. They remember meeting them, the poses, and the immediate acceptance into their… group, their family.
The Little Yellow Squid blinked. How could they forget something that important? Little Buddy stared up at them and made his sounds. That was a memory, they’re sure of it, but it’s from when they’re 15. They aren’t 15 yet, and now they’re confused.
Any other dreams get told to their Little Buddy as well, Little Buddy keeps drawing, and they keep remembering more. Even as tensions at home worsen, the memories persist, clearly wanting to be uncovered. Even as their sibling stops answering their phone in Inkopolis, memories claim they’ll reunite and it helps make them feel better. Even as tensions worsen at home, the dreams, memories, offer a solution for the future. And The Little Yellow Squid knows they’ll follow the memory with Little Buddy in tow.
Also. The Little Yellow Squid never steps foot into a Grizzco facility.
25 notes
·
View notes