I am not entirely certain what will happen once the actors & writers strike ends, but I'm pretty sure Michael Sheen will break the sound barrier with how fast he will go feral on the internets about how Aziraphale wants to eat Crowley's ox rib
You close your eyes. The familiar bursts of dull color take vague shapes - and then it kicks in. The skullsoft program begins tweaking the data from your eyes to your visual cortex and the once dull colors bloom in vibrant psychedelic waves.
You know that this shouldn't have an effect on your pattern recognition yet you clearly see patterns and shapes. It should be noise, colorful and pleasant. There's a message hidden in the pulsations and the tingling feeling of sensory manipulation - akin to euphoria but tinged - keeps you hunting for reality when you deliberately sought recontextualization.
The way the waves crashed and the sound of her restful sighs sounded as one. The warmth of the sun never seeming to sink deeper than the surface of your skin. Smoke was in the air, in your heart, in the intangible all-encompassing lostness when everything ought to be just fine. The sun dims.
The colors begin to dull. The patterns recede into the natural black of your eyelids. You still see the dull octarine bursts sweeping across your vision, coming into life and fading before a new wave emerges.
Before you drift to sleep, you hear the distant sound of crashing waves.
So college literature class has been interesting. Wished I never learned about omegaverse while deep diving on AO3 as a high school student, because I think I take so much psychic damage everytime a teacher references it.
I’m porting this over here. In light of me being pissed last night, I stated that I was at “The Boiling Point of the World” and now I realize how much that sounds like a really badass song name.
I was doing a little research on Erythrism which is like a sister condition type thing to leucism and albinism for both design and a little bio project for myself and I shit you not, this was like the fourth result.... what is humanity...
Since I work for a mega HOA (against my will [thanks capitalist hellscape]) I had to go to the community meeting tonight and boy was that an experience. I brought my ipad hoping I could doodle to pass some of the 2 hour time block but who should sit next to me in the back corner but the queen. That's what all us maintenance peasants call her. She owns the biggest of the big properties and is famous for getting her way. I'd never met her but she just spent 2 hours giggling in my ear. I actually feel like we'd get along if she wasn't terrifying.
Anyway, rich people scare the shit out of me. I spent the whole two hours masking the hardest I can mask. Shoulders straight. Brain on screensaver mode. Responsive 'active listening' smile plastered on my face. The big boss CEO was there so I saw him for the first time. He really said the quiet parts out loud when it came to local politics and land development, but it was a room full of other rich republican capitalists and me, a simple peasant, so why not.
There was one ruddy guy in board shorts in the back who kept derailing the whole meeting to remind everyone that he had a 3 year old daughter. The disruption salvaged some shreds of my sanity, I'll give him that. Naturally he's distraught about her safety in this gated mansion neighborhood with private law enforcement. Gosh. And here I was not even locking my house most days because this is the safest place I've lived since I left Germany 20 years ago. I bet he's seen me driving my poor person car through the gates after dark and had a conniption about it at least once. What's up bud?
Heavens. The other day I was out picking blackberries and saw the cops lurking on the road, keeping an eye on me. Checking to make sure I looked white enough no doubt.
My keyboard, which has been saying "Our Flag Means Death? Don't know her" for the past two months, now recognizes Goncharov with even the messiest swipe. Figures.