The Softness Systems Happy Explorations @softness-system - Tumblr Blog

Ask Softness Anything!

A: I was feeling a bit bored so i asked the others if we should set up an event! so the idea we had is that anyone who wants to can ask us questions and we can answer them! either reblog with your questions or use our ask!

#ask me anything #Well it should be ask us anything #ask us anything!#ask us stuff #inquiring minds want to know!

inkskinned

i know we’re both just messing around pretending to be whole but look at me. if the train was coming would you move. if the ground was falling from under your feet would you even notice or would it just be another tuesday for you. if somebody stabbed you could it hurt worse than you already do. what i’m saying is that i love you but i think we both drive over the speed limit when it’s raining. what i’m saying is that i want to hold your hand and i understand about how you sometimes have to sit down in the shower. what i’m saying is that i’m here for you and if the train comes please move.

inkskinned

i wrote this 7 years ago, somehow. every day someone else finds it and whispers to me - oh, i understand this. something always turns in the wash of my stomach: i am so, so glad you feel seen. i wish you had no idea what this post was about.

i wrote this while working in a program for new writers. on wednesdays, two of the teachers would be contractually obligated to read our writing aloud to the group of 300+ teens. i had never read my work in public before. i had something like 6k poems and was panicking about it. none of them are good enough. sometimes the train is howling. it is hard, actually, sometimes, even as an adult.

and then i thought - what is one thing i wish i could tell all of them. each of these 300 kids. what did i need to hear, at 16?

i wanted to tell them about the day you wake up, and the sun feels warm finally. i wanted to tell them about carving a life out of soapstone, your hands turning bloody. i wanted to tell them that sometimes yes - it actually does feel easy. i wanted to tell them about weddings and cookie dough and long road trips. about albums of new music and old friends laughing and the sound of snow falling.

you will learn the pattern of the train. you will learn to close your eyes when you hear the engine rumbling. you will learn to let yourself have the grey days in their lily-soft numbness. sometimes it will feel like life is wet paint, and god has smeared your canvas across a sewer grate. sometimes it will be so boring it isn’t even pronounceable - the tenacious, soundless blankness. survival isn’t just ugly nights and wild mornings. it is also the steady, unimportant moments. it is just driving with your seatbelt on. it is calling a friend on the way home. it is burying your face into the fur of your dog.

when i had finished reading this poem aloud, the auditorium was silent for a solid minute. someone stood up to take a picture of where it had been projected onto a screen, and then three more people followed the action, and then - like a bad internet story, people remembered they were supposed to be clapping. kids came up to me after it - thank you for writing that. i think i hear a train coming.

i would write this differently now, i think, but it has been 7 years. i still live by the tracks. i also haven’t picked up a blade in over 10 years. the scars are still there, but these days i only pick up scissors to cut my hair. i know why you can’t tell your mom about it. i know how the numbness slips over everything, a restless horrible cotton. i know how when you dropped the dish, you weren’t crying about the broken glass. i know about feeling like all the roads have closed their exits, that you aren’t supposed to still-be-here - and yet.

i am still here, and still yours, and i haven’t forgotten. what i’m saying is if any hope is calling to you - i know it’s hard, but you have to listen. i’m saying keep driving, but slow down the car. sit down in the shower, i’m not judging you. we can stay in the dark with the good hot water and do nothing but stare. notice the stab wound. make it through another tuesday.

i know what it is like to miss yourself. do what you need to. come home to me. i am writing to you, my past self, from the future. i’ll be waiting for you.

and when the train is coming - please move.

cosmonautroger

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa (sound on)

heckeronincheese

Rehabilitation of older gen hounds to work the desk jobs seems to have helped with the budget. But can we not fuck them during office hours!? I have reports i need authorization for. And if you try to get frisky with me my handler would love to give you a 45. Lobotomy... free of charge.

Not on the field anymore. They're still protective of me. I don't mind.

Likes to fill me in on the new hounds she has to train but still makes time for an old dog like me.

Glad my old mech is getting some use too..

Mix of balam scraps and arasaka firmware.

She's seen some shit. Older gen. I got from an old terran vendor. But the old autocannons seem to still sing.

Ik they're antiques but they still punch through hulls like tissue paper in the right hands.

Sometimes I yearn for a sortie.

Air dense with gunpowder,sweat,and uncertainty instead of printer ink and stale coffee.

But my days are past.

Fly high you spry mutts.

And for the love of fuck close your comms when youre in heat. We can't be wasting all our archival carts on your pathetic moans..

actualized-animal

being anti-divorce is so fucking bonkers to me like yeah i think you're morally obligated to stay with some shithead who you hate forever. this is a normal and healthy thing to believe. let's have kids together and force them to grow up being raised by two people who hate each other. yeah this might fuck them up mentally during the most formative years of their life but it's the morally righteous thing to do. if there's one thing god loves it's traumatized children. i'm getting into heaven for sure

firem4ge

cpericardium

happy pride

chateau-bluerose

bro we are in a liminal space? And we're being turned into girls? We are literally victims of the trans backrooms they warned us about?

loveridden1999

the thing about phone in bed is that it's so awesome. almost makes you feel like betraying & destroying yourself for nothing isn't all so bad

senatortedcruz

I am in fucking tears

waskitty

i’m so glad i’ve never gotten over anything in my life it makes listening to music so fun

discordiaazaezal

I need to hold her and whisper in her ear. "The world is scary but I'm going to keep you safe."

zyprexazydis11

inklingowl

transmascmarypoppins

why is this post completely broken in every way imaginable

cecilsrandomeverything

Broken notes… deactivated account… removed image….

Finally, we have them all.

spacefinch

In addition: OP’s name is just… gone. No “[insert username]-deactivated[insert a bunch of numbers]” as is the standard for deactivated blogs.

Just the world “deactivated.” Look upon their post, ye mighty, and despair.

chatblancofficial

It’ll be almost impossible to find this post unless it wanders across your dash.

huewrite

It wandered across mine. I shall help it travel forward.

gossamermouse

this is not a place of honor

jackviator

dinosaurana

Oh hey post of Ozymandius, good to see you again standing on your feet in a desert where no one remembers you

softness-system

im doing my part to help it wander.

spiribia

one of my favorite glados gags is she keeps pretending she went places. she's like i went outside today. girl you did not go anywhere.

transfem-juice

horsefriend

putnamspuppeteer

For those who don't know: Ikumi Nakamura is the woman who was senior artist on Bayonetta, and designed the titular character along with Hideki Kamiya. Their greatest moment of bonding was over their insistence that Bayonetta keep her glasses on at all times. Nakamura cannot go to horny jail. She is the warden.