[blam-hammer]

tumblr staff reactivated my old terminated blog (blamhammer.tumblr.com)

gonna try and use that one again.

[luna--terra]

[sleepstained]

this game is everything

[pukicho]

thoughts on?

No. Thoughts are currently off.

[sandersstudies]

You CANNOT serve from an empty vessel but go off I guess

[i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing-de]

OP what does this mean?

[sandersstudies]

When your friends are hungry, you cannot serve them from an empty breadbasket, no matter how good your intentions. When they're thirsty, you cannot serve them from an empty pitcher, no matter the effort you put in.

We have to stock ourselves with good things before we are able to give them away, and if we are too exhausted to make bread, we must rest before we can make it to serve our friends. If we are too hungry to serve, we must eat some bread ourselves first.

It's a metaphor for emotional exhaustion. When we wear ourselves down it makes it difficult or impossible to help the people around us, and all the effort and good intentions in the world can't make up for the fact that our vessels are empty. It's hard to not want to serve when our friends are in trouble, but trying to serve from an empty vessel often leaves both of you floundering.

On the contrary, when we care for ourselves and are kind to our body and mind, we are full vessels, and serving the people around us becomes easier. That's why it's important to take time for ourselves once in a while, to refill ourselves with good things.

[cluegrrl]

In the event of a sudden pressure change, put on your own oxygen mask before helping a companion with theirs if needed.

[ailithnight]

I have never seen this concept so perfectly and eloquently articulated.

You cannot serve from an empty vessel.

[demilypyro]

Fallout: New Vegas (2010)

[unsaltedwaters]

PULL THE LEVER KRONK

[dawnonthehorizon-blog1]

WHY DO WE EVEN HAVE THAT LEVER

[1995lahaine]

everyone posting that “my generation lost hobbies” post is so stupid like no you fuckwits hobbies were stolen from you by a system that demands you work 8 hours a day to earn a tiny percentage of the profit you generate, leaving you too exhausted and brainwashed to enjoy exercising passion without financial incentive

[darkwingsnark]

Not to mention if you DO somehow have that energy to create, people put pressure on you to monetize it. You can’t draw for the sake of drawing, your family and friends think you’re good enough that you need to sell it. You can’t sing for the sake of singing, you have to turn that into a career or shut up. You can’t write fanfiction for your own enjoyment, you’re wasting time when you could be working on your OWN novel.

These are sentiments that have been told to me over the years. That people think you are ‘wasting your talents’ if everything you do isn’t for the sake of profit. And I’m here to tell you folks… that’s SAD.

[alisonzai]

[kellyykao]

Korra palette #7 requested by ohmykorra 

[loversdreamersandyou]

[spellboundwitchcraft]

Flooded parking lots are beautiful, especially when the speckled asphalt makes the clouds into galaxies.

[regularcitrus]

visual representation of my week

[organizedstudy]

Going through the notes on your phone is just like: *codes and passwords that don’t tell you what they lead to* *a random fact* *midnight thoughts from 3 years ago* *a wishlist* *something your friend told you about that you were “definitely going to check out”* *random numbers* *drafts of emotionally charged messages* *shopping lists* *todo lists* *fake poetry* *a diary entry*

[raccooncomic]

92. Midnight Snack

The step-by-step art process for this is available to patrons 💕

[btrndl]

Sketchy thing! The diner scene on KR0 is pure magic: Conway tries the door. The door swings open easily. A bell rings nearby. The interior of the diner is pitch black.

Walk in. > Wait a moment to adjust to the darkness. Leave. Conway stands in the doorway, waiting for his eyes to adjust. A bit of errant light from the nearby highway creeps through the open door, and gradually Conway is able to make out a few figures inside: Two old men in trucker hats sit in a corner booth, with a checkers board set on the table between them. A young woman standing behind the counter in an apron must be a waitress. The cook stares blankly from the kitchen.​ The door slams shut, and the room is dark again. > Sit down at the counter. Try to open the door and leave. Conway walks in the direction of the counter. He hits his knee on something hard and metallic, winces quietly, and then carefully finds his way to a stool. He places his hand on the counter. > Order coffee. Order waffles. Ask her about the baseball game.

A cup of coffee would do it. Black … oily, even. Hot, familiar dinner coffee. Conway runs his hand down the menu. The surface is uniformly flat, and slick with condensation. He feels a warm hand against his cheek, and freezes. Her fingers run across the stubble of his chin. He feels like apologizing. She leans forward, and so does he –

[disdew]

too late to love you