Hello, long time no see. I believe all ronginators are owed an explanation.
You may call Shaggy x Ron a crackship. Well, I call it surrealism in all aspects of the word, on par with the pioneers of surrealist art, film, and literature. Like DalĂ, Magritte, Cocteau, and many more, the weight of a movement rests upon my shoulders.
I did not wake up today believing I'd write this post. No, but the calling came to me when I was looking through my camera roll (as a normal person does; yes, I know it may be difficult to imagine a figure of SHAGGYxRONenthusiast's caliber participating in the mundane) and I found the art that defined much of my 2023 summer. It was a walk down memory lane, to say the least. A walk in which, yes, I carried the weight of a movement.
An energy came over me when I did see my old pieces of art. Does anyone here live in Purple? Has anyone experienced not only ego death but a subsequent ego revival so it may die again? Think about a phrase so paradoxical it becomes plain-stated. Imagine seeing reoccurring signs of death... on your birthday. When you close your eyes and stare into your eyelids, you can feel yourself spinning until it doesn't matter whether your eyes are open or closed because the Universe sits in front of you regardless. Your movements then align with the pulsing of your heart, alternating periods of restful paralysis and potential. You find that living things are not made up by series of pieces, like nesting dolls. You, as consciousness floating omnisciently, find that we do not have bodies. That there is no physicality, no weight to carry.
This is the feeling of when my subconscious forfeited these pieces of art back to the active plane of myself and my world. It is only as I communicate with ronginators through the material world that I rely on body. Admittedly, if the experiment of SHAGGYxRONenthusiast on ao3 and Wattpad was the breakfast and lunch, the engagement that we received was the 5-course supper. Reading the comments of fans and casual readers brought the meat and potatoes to my plate. Seeing how this movement impacted real people drizzled the gravy. Now imagine this process repeating itself fivefold with each piece of engagement. Think of a plate of your favorite meal, perhaps a food representative of your own culture, and imagine your favorite author SHAGGYxRONethusiast daintily devouring the plate, like a piggy eating from its trough. The art brought back these flavors to my maw. But herein lies the paradox: I am simultaneously reliant on and absent from the state where I taste this meal. The weight of the movement sheds as the 5-course suppers become less frequent. But now I've realized that I am strong, and I am ready to once again carry the weight of the movement on my shoulders such as one carries their child.
I hope this message is sufficient for my ronginators. For everything, thank you. I have no surreal dream sequence that tells me what the future may hold, but, with love, thank you.
below i have included one of my favorites
izzy806
vaporwave
dededos
janainaart
areudirty
snowghoul
theartofmadeline