Mumbo Told Me To Do It. What is Art Appreciation? Art appreciation is the study and understanding of the visual arts, including painting, sculpture, architecture, and other forms of expression. It involves learning about the elements and principles of art, as well as the historical and cultural context in which works of art were created!
Standing at a crossroads, I finally decided to let go of the one comfort I had selfishly tried to keep.
Even now, I cannot decide which question troubles me more: why I held onto it for so long, or why I chose to leave.
It was a garden full of roses.
A place that welcomed me in my armor, let me collapse among its flowers, and offered shelter from the chaos that echoed endlessly inside my head.
I grew comfortable there.
The sunlight was warm. The roses bloomed in colors so vibrant they seemed untouched by sorrow. The endless green softened even the sharpest edges of a battle-worn heart.
And there, beneath it all, were thorns.
I noticed them from the beginning.
They scraped against my armor whenever I settled in too deeply. They caught on me whenever I tried to rest. Yet the garden was so beautiful, so comforting, that I convinced myself the scratches did not matter.
So I stayed.
Days turned into weeks, weeks into months. My armor grew thinner, though I pretended not to notice.
Then one day, a thorn pierced my finger.
I watched a drop of blood gather at the tip, small and crimson against the petals.
The pain was not unbearable.
It was simply impossible to ignore.
For the first time, I truly looked at the garden.
Not at the sunlight.
Not at the roses.
Not at the comfort it offered.
I looked at the thorns.
They were everywhere.
Woven through every stem, hidden beneath every bloom, guarding every corner I had once considered safe.
At first, I searched for an answer.
Did the garden not want me?
Had I mistaken hospitality for invitation?
Had I stayed beyond the point I was meant to?
The garden remained silent.
The roses continued to bloom.
The sunlight continued to fall.
Nothing changed.
And yet everything had.
For a while, I remained where I was, returning to the same patch of flowers, hoping I had misunderstood what I had seen.
But eventually, a quieter truth found me.
The thorns were never there because of me.
They were there because they belonged to the garden.
They were not a punishment.
They were not a warning.
They were simply part of its nature.
And perhaps they always would be.
So I stood.
I gathered what remained of my armor, picked up my sword, and looked at the place that had sheltered me for so long.
Then I smiled.
Not because leaving was easy.
Not because I no longer loved the garden.
But because some places can be beautiful and still not be where you are meant to stay.
And with gratitude for the warmth it once gave me, I walked away, carrying a quiet hope that somewhere beyond the horizon there is another garden waiting – not one without thorns, but one where I do not have to bleed simply to belong.
fuck it. minecraft headcanon (au? is it an au if the game's lore is practically nonexistent? fuck it's the early days of the fnaf fandom all over again oh fuck oh-) lore dump
fuck me i dont even know how to organize this. take it or leave it, this is more for me than anything. its also not complete bc it got way too long. i’ll make separate posts abt how alex, herobrine, and the ender dragon come into play and link them here later.
steve minecraft and the ender dragon are gods who are also divorced lovers but only one of them knows it
ok so now that we got that out of the way
at the time of the "ancient builders," overworld was a little more structured, populated, and unified, leading to the various megastructures that we see today (temples, ocean monuments, ruins, mineshafts, etc).
everything was overseen by two ruling powers. nature and magic. over time, these two manifested in the form of two main gods, piraeus and imum, respectively. they had no forms, so their images have not been carved or depicted anywhere. it was understood that the world itself was the image of the gods. this led to them becoming a mystery to the civilizations that followed.
eventually, however, a faction of the ancient builders became too ambitious. they sought the power of imum more than piraeus, and wanted to use her magic to create life. a legend began to circulate that imum had the power to create independently from piraeus. this is what the faction desired. they began to experiment, learning how to harness this power, and from these experiments arose various atrocities. most notably, the creaking, the wither, and the warden.
it was these creations that led to the fall of the ancient builders civilization. small groups survived forming isolated villages, but the overworld was changed forever, damaged.
but what of the gods?
it is unknown whether they truly existed before the fall, or if they were simply a creation of the ancient builders, a vessel for their hubris. but one thing is for certain: they exist now, and this will have consequences.
enter steve.
a man awakes on a hill, without memory or name. the world barely even notices that he's there. a leaf lands on his cheek impassively.
lost, alone, he wanders. eventually he finds a village, where a kind cleric takes him in. the cleric asks his name, and he cant answer. "i suppose you have the luxury of choosing," the cleric suggests sympathetically. not many get that luxury. "how about steve? it is a strong name, meaning crown or glory. there is honor in such a name."
so steve gets back up on his feet (back? back from what? he had no past, no memory -- he was new). ambitious, he sets off to build his own home, recognizing something deep in him that makes him different than those kind people he found in the village.
you know the rest.
he builds a house, he befriends a dog, he survives. he gets killed and wakes up in his home -- okay. having no point of reference for this, he continues on, grumbling with frustration every time he woke up in his bed with nothing more than a headache. he mentions this in an offhand comment to the cleric on one of his visits back to the village, and receives a strange look. is this not normal? he finds out others stay dead. this information leaves him with a heavy pit in his stomach. great, something else that makes him different.
he doesnt think about the fact that despite their various stages of decay, the zombies he fights seem familiar. the more he dies, the more frequent they seem to become. he doesnt think about this either.
he discovers temples and ocean monuments and ruins. the villagers tell him that they have no idea who built them, save for a few fragmented legends passed down orally over millennia. he feels a pull to the structures, a connection to those "ancient builders" he hears about. he doesnt think about this.
theres magic in this world, also strange yet familiar. very few seem to have been able to harness it, and they certainly dont seem like the sharing type.
there's one day where he's wandering through yet another temple in the desert, marking down the strange architecture and design choices (okay, he's allowed himself to think a little bit about everything, and has started his own research) when he finds a sideroom with a skeleton in it. except this skeleton isn't like the others; it isnt reanimated, it doesnt shoot arrows, it just slouches against the wall, jaw dangling open. as skeletons should, really. strange how this has become the outlier.
titsay
turnnoffyourmind
origamiaround
2087
areudirty
