Hi?
Wow, we haven’t posted here for ages. Seems a bit cosy though. :3
~Kerry
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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

izzy's playlists!

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Cosmic Funnies
trying on a metaphor

ellievsbear
will byers stan first human second
i don't do bad sauce passes
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

#extradirty
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PR's Tumblrdome
d e v o n
sheepfilms
todays bird

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Game of Thrones Daily
NASA

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@multicolourmayhem
Hi?
Wow, we haven’t posted here for ages. Seems a bit cosy though. :3
~Kerry
Scanned the Cat Collection from my #Inktober sketchbook.
by Derby Tup Photos
Would you wear this?
It is not length of life, but depth of life.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
Isabelle Dow
ANAMNESIS
[noun]
1. the recollection or remembrance of the past; reminiscence.
2. Platonism: recollection of the Ideas, which the soul had known in a previous existence, especially by means of reasoning.
3. the medical history of a patient.
4. Immunology: a prompt immune response to a previously encountered antigen, characterised by more rapid onset and greater effectiveness of antibody and T cell reaction than during the first encounter, as after a booster shot in a previously immunised person.
5. a prayer in a Eucharistic service, recalling the Passion, Resurrection, and Ascension of Christ.
Etymology: via New Latin from Greek, from anamimnēskein, “to recall”, from mimnēskein, “to call to mind”.
[Bryan Larsen - Memory]
POIESIS
[noun & suffix]
creation; production; formation; indicating the act of making or producing something specified.
Etymology: from Greek poiēsis, “a making, creation”; see poesy, i.e. poetry.
[Andrew Forrest - Symphony of Creation]
You can’t find intimacy—you can’t find home—when you’re always hiding behind masks. Intimacy requires a certain level of vulnerability. It requires a certain level of you exposing your fragmented, contradictory self to someone else. You running the risk of having your core self rejected and hurt and misunderstood.
Junot Díaz (via jaeboogie)
fuck.
(via jorgexo)
………
(via spartanbitch)
by karahaupt
NYC 1964
Confession
Sometimes I feel guilty for not posting more serious things on here. I know it’s not actually a thing I need to be ashamed of, but, just, know that not writing about things doesn’t mean I am not thinking about them.
If it helps, sometimes a big part of self-care for us is posting non-serious stuff, or at least nice things like pictures of rocks and trees, when a flood of posts about horrible things happening in the world are turning up on our dash. Even if those horrible things are ones that directly affect us. ESPECIALLY if those horrible things are ones that directly affect us.
Because getting caught up in “I can’t think about or post anything non-serious because horrible things are going on, I must focus on and blog about and signalboost them all the time” can be as much of a trap as “I shouldn’t worry about my own disability because other people are much more disabled than me.” It’s a trap that leads into self-neglect and, ironically, therefore an inability to actually help anyone at all, including yourself.
Also, one of the reasons the “lol, First World problems” business is so much bullshit, is that it suggests the lives of “Third Worlders” are totally devoid of any possibility for happiness, humor, shared jokes, etc, so you should feel terrible for being able to laugh and bond with friends when “They” supposedly can’t. When the reality that history and personal accounts have always shown is that humor is one of the way human beings cope when placed in terrible situations. Often as a subversive thing— private jokes, in-jokes, jokes your oppressors won’t recognize or things meant to defy them.
You hear stories of this from real people all the time. It happens in war. In prisons. In institutions. Among people in any kind of abusive situation. Humor isn’t a luxury, it’s something that can keep us sane in our darkest hours. And so is being able to appreciate little things, being able to find beauty around you— flowers, trees, rocks, etc. People in all kinds of terrible situations make art because it helps them stay sane. Some of the greatest expressions of creativity come from people in oppressed situations.
So I don’t think you should feel bad at all. Sometimes we do get pushed to a point where we can’t ignore something, yeah, but right now we’re also in a state of deliberately ignoring a lot of things that actually do affect us because we need some sanity and to get our head clear.
-S. (first one)
(Also, I might have gone completely off on a tangent from what you really meant— sorry about that. I guess I had just been looking for a place to write about it somewhere.)
Yes, this. This is why this entire blog exists for us - to post things that are somewhat less serious than on the other blog. This is why this blog is full of flowers and quotations and landscapes and trees and artwork and poems. Because it helps us to see the world in a healthier way, rather than being caught up in depressing things all the time. ~K. (Also, hello! It is just @plures; we created a second account that is less politics-heavy.)
(via Timeline Photos - I fucking love science)
This is what happens when wizards aren’t careful about violating secrecy.
Are you guys following the International Statute of Secrecy breach scandal?
SUBTLE
[adjective]
1. thin, tenuous, or rarefied, as a fluid or an odour.
2. fine or delicate in meaning or intent; gentle; soft.
3. delicate or faint and mysterious.
4. requiring mental acuteness, penetration, or discernment; difficult to perceive or understand; not immediately obvious or comprehensible.
5. characterised by mental acuteness or penetration.
6. cunning; wily; foxy.
7. operated or executed in secret.
Etymology: from Middle English sotil > Old French soutil > Latin subtīlis, “finely woven”.
[Tony Sandoval - White Flowers]
In her old age, Narcissa was no less stunning or intimidating than she had been in her youth. As her husband became increasingly reclusive, it was Narcissa who turned the name Malfoy into one that was once again respected. She abandoned the purist ideals that her family had previously clung to, donating more than enough money to all the right causes and then some, befriending those she previously would not have looked twice at, and even lowering herself to make public apologies. (She was a good actor, after all. She would do it all again, if only to keep Draco safe, to lie to the wizard who tried to destroy her family.)
Narcissa Malfoy became a leader, worked to regain power, because she refused to let her son’s future and happiness be crushed by the foolish decisions of his parents.
(Carmen Dell’Orifice)