Love Begins
Origami Around
RMH
No title available
pixel skylines
★
Cosimo Galluzzi
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
EXPECTATIONS
Product Placement
ojovivo
h
Kiana Khansmith
occasionally subtle
Interview Vampire Daily
🩵 avery cochrane 🩵
shark vs the universe
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Discoholic 🪩
izzy's playlists!
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Poland
seen from Jordan
seen from Kenya
seen from South Korea
seen from Australia
seen from Portugal
seen from Singapore
seen from Ukraine
seen from United States
seen from Zimbabwe
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Türkiye
seen from Russia
seen from Estonia
seen from Brazil
@spacehamsterboo-blog
Im enjoying the longevity of tumblrs recontextualization style of humor. a seemingly innocuous post followed by like "posts that a gnome would make" or like "are you a phone"
More from the notes:
I love this post
The horse thinks as it scratches an itch
What it looks like to me is that these churns of outrage aren't actually about anything that these creators say or do, so much as they are a kind of reflexive action in response to literally any kind of friction. Like an angry infected rash flaring up with pain when it is brushed by a feather.
The show you like is telling a slightly different story than what you want? Friction is the same as pain so it is hurting me, AAAA!!! Your expectation of what was going to happen to that character you liked didn't pan out? Friction! Friction hurts! You're hurting me!!
But where the Disney Corporation can run a fucking angle grinder across the rash and barely provoke an "ow," indie creators (especially if they are not men), can get nearly run off the internet for things like factually answering a direct question or stating that the story they are writing has main characters.
There's a lot of misogyny in that, obviously, and in many awful flavors, but I think there's also mixed in there a very peculiar kind of consumer-brained entitlement. We expect that the big corporations will fuck us over every two seconds, and we expect to be utterly powerless to do anything about it because all they give a shit about is Line Go Up, but indie creators (especially if they are not men) are expected to be the balm to that infected rash. Where everything else in the world is painful and mean and uncomfortable, independent queer creators are expected to produce the comfortable swaddling bandage that dulls the pain and soothes the sensitivity. This is supposed to be our happy place, our safe place. It's supposed to be ours and belong to us and serve us.
And so they moment they produce friction, any friction, literally the tiniest amount of friction imaginable, well that's a failure! You are failing to live up to your purpose, and that's not just a creative failure but a moral and personal and spiritual failure too. It's a sin, in fact, it is a kind of evil. Friction hurts, and that means you are hurting me!
It creates this fucked up upside-down bizarro logic wherein the corpos and the companies can transgress to almost literally any degree, as much as they want, as often as they want, but queer independent creators (and I cannot stress this enough: especially if they are not men) have to walk tightrope on a razor wire and may God help their souls if they ever put a foot wrong. We will shake and shake and shake the towers until they each fall down; I didn't like that step I think you were taking, how dare you believe you deserve to be up there!
I definitely feel a sort of hesitation and anxiety whenever I read people’s headcanons about my stories, because I get worried they’ll be upset that the way I write the story doesn’t match up to the thing they have in their heads. This gets especially tricky when lots of folks speculate in different directions and I feel that whatever I write WILL disappoint somebody… (or, to Skyen’s point: create upsetting emotional friction for them)
Which, to be fair? Yeah. That’s normal. Not all art is for everybody. I try hard to internalize this… there’s a really badly paraphrased Mark Rosewater quote about game design I think about a lot:
“Anything specific enough for a person to fall in love with must, by its very nature, be something that another kind of person doesn’t like.”
That’s not a bad thing. Everyone is different and if you try to make something that perfectly inoffensive to everybody, you end up with something mild and flavorless.
All this to say, I’m glad I’ve managed to cultivate a broadly cool audience who, for the most part, are super supportive of my work. I think it’s important to make stuff for the sickos (Affectionate).
Okay, this made me pause and literally write out every letter that 'fell' in order (‘oomngouuhhrsrtutpntnue’), then make sure they were all contained in 'turntomushuponthergroun'.
They are, and it's very satisfying.
Just remembered before I admitted to myself that I was trans that sometime I’d see a beautiful woman and just be like “help I’m gay” and then just not examine that. Like yeah I love women in a lesbian way, that doesn’t mean anything though.
Pretty much every rpg I’m in right now has one of these and I love my friends for it
reblog to give your headache to elon musk instead
"Vampires with low humanity can't have sex"
You can't understand what the word "sex" means to me, you can't fathom what i count as sex. Its terrifying and powerful and can killyou
You really start to understand that the “angry black woman” and “mean lesbian” stereotype only exists to shame us for the fact we get reasonably upset about people wanting to horrifically abuse us indiscriminately. Let’s get meaner !
when we "lose" a cis butch woman because he becomes a trans man or masc you should actually say such things as yay, yippee, or hooray.
you don’t realize how important lunch is until you’re wandering around thinking about how unloveable and untalented and uniquely cursed you are and then it’s 4pm and you finally eat lunch and you go Oh. oh right.
Worm
This isn’t a poem I don’t think, just a 2 am ramble about my relationship with my sister and my transition and just needed to put it somewhere
Would you still love me if I was a worm?
Because I was
Because sometimes I think I still am
Part of me at least
I know you would love me if I was a worm
Because I was
And you did
I must have been a good worm
Nice
Helpful
Easily carried places and would settle
I was simple
Did you love me because I was a worm?
I hope not
Because I love you still
You are still one of the most important people in my life
I don’t want to think about a world without you
And yet when I stopped being a worm I had to be prepared for it
Because you loved me when I was a worm
But I didn’t.
Would you love me if I hated the worm
The worm you knew and loved
The worm you cherished
Would you still love the person who’d take a hammer to the worm if they could.
I want to say I’m not the worm
But I’m not sure
Because I can look in the mirror and see the worm
And I know
I know you look at me
And still see the worm
But the nice parts
The worm you love
But the worm’s dead
The worm was dead before I crawled out of its carcass
It’s just that neither of us knew it.
So please
Don’t love the worm I used to be
The worm I hate
The worm that would have suffocated me if I waited any longer
The last character you wrote about is put in the last video game you played for a week. Can they survive?
The last character you wrote about is put in the last video game you played for a week. Can they survive?
Yes
No
See results
I am so glad that I started playing pokemon legends ZA again because my werewolf girl might have just been boned in Resident Evil 9
It’s surviving Grace’s playthrough vs hanging out in Paris and avoiding certain areas
The last character you wrote about is put in the last video game you played for a week. Can they survive?
The last character you wrote about is put in the last video game you played for a week. Can they survive?
Yes
No
See results
For a city to be walkable. It must also be sittable.
#every time I read this phrase the same thing happens#I read it as shittable and go wait that can't be right#oh right they were talking about public benches that makes more sense#but public bathrooms available without fees should also be a thing tho#cities should definitely be shittable#it happens EVERY SINGLE TIME
it must also be shittable
both trans men and trans women are punished for our proximity to both feminity and masculinity. people decide when we are men or women based on what is the WORST option at the moment. we both get treated like women only when someone needs to infantalize us or call us bossy, bitchy, stupid, vapid. we both get treated like men when someone wants to demonize and paint us as violent, predatory, abusive, perverted. NONE of us are benefiting from any gendered privilege, because we are always treated like the worst of either gender depending on the scenario. this is something all trans people experience, regardless of agab, both trans men and trans women. so why do we assume that the other side has the opposite experience as us?? why do you think that because your life as a trans man or a trans woman is painful, that a trans person of a different gender must have the opposite experience?? like i just dont get the preschool level understanding of gender like "well boys and girls are opposites so of course our experiences are opposites too" we are living the same transphobia and if you cant see it you need to listen to other people more
You're asexual? But...
“but sex is what makes us human!”
in 1916 a French officer in his twenties writes his
doctoral dissertation under
heavy mortar fire.
he sends it by mail, a page
at a time, to his wife.
a week before he’s to step up to the podium and
defend his work rather than hiscountry
he is killed in action.
even as the bullets rip
through him he still wishes he could have become a professor
in French literature and
the university awards him a posthumous Ph.D.
sex is
a woman breaks down in tears on the phone because
a week is not enough time to
get over a breakup.
her sister drives an hour across town,
comes up the front steps with
a gallon of ice cream and somebeer
and together they eat moose tracks and marathon
every
single
Godzilla movie
ever made.
sex is
she’s late for work but her car isn’t
starting and even through her coat and hat she’s cold.
she knows she can’t be late again because she’s missed
one time too many already because her
father’s nurse was sick with the flu and someone
needed to help him bathe.
the clock ticks past fifteen after and she hits
the wheel like it’s a heavy bag as though that will help
steps on the gas like the car will go
and wonders how she will pay rent
and how she will feed her father.
sex is
it takes three people to hold the predator down because
even with the cover over his head
a bleeding eye and shattered wing
he is trying to hurt them.
none of them have seen this bird before in their lives but
they bandage his wing and head and give him a painkiller and
put him in a warm place to sleep and heal because
it is right.
at first he is paralyzed and cannot
fly but soon he is taking steps
and then fluttering, and then soaring, and
six months later he is whole and healed and hunting.
once he is gone they never see him again
which means they’ve done their jobs right.
sex is
in 1969 a girl watches grey-and-white footage on her parents’ tiny television and
can’t quite believe that what she is seeing is not a movie set but
another planet.
the men on the screen look a little like
aliens with bulbous heads and no faces and fat
marshmallow arms
but they are still men.
her mother puffs on a cigarette behind her and declares that
this is progress
even if it was just a small step.
the girl grows up to be not an astronaut but a secretary
and her boss calls her ‘sweetheart’.
but sex is
a boy is taught that real men don’t cry so
he doesn’t.
when his best friend dies from a self-inflicted
gunshot wound, he locks himself
in the shower every day and sobs under scalding
water until it runs cold
so nobody will see him grieving
so nobody will see that tears are just love that
has no place left to go.
he learns to dull love rather than suppress its expression and
soon the owner of the liquor store knows him by name.
three DUIs, two evictions, and twelve steps later,
he is feeding people at a homeless shelter,
and telling them it’s all right to cry.
Sex is
the broken man tells the comedian
that he didn’t mean to step in front of the car but the rain
made it hard to see.
he seems okay but his leg
does not.
the comedian clutches a grubby receipt with the driver’s
plate number scrawled on the back
in pink pen, stands out in the rain so the broken man
can have his umbrella,
and gives him the comedy routine that ruined his career
so the man doesn’t think about the pain in his leg.
once he’s out of the hospital, the fixed man sends him a thank-you card
with kittens on it.
what makes us human
yawning is contagious,
and there is a species of bird whose young we call “pufflings”.
melodic collections of sound, spaced by silence,
can move us to tears.
the tallest building in the world is
two-thousand seven-hundred and seventeen feet tall.
in less than eighty years we went from our first powered flight
to touching the moon,
and in one-hundred from the first phone call
to instantaneous connection between thinking machines of our own creation.
we make pies out of tree organs
and let cow’s milk ferment until it hardens and then
we put them together, because apple pie with cheddar cheese is delicious.
what makes us human is
the earliest fossils of anatomically modern humans are
two-hundred thousand years old .
we have had pet dogs
for sixteen-thousand of those years, longer
than corn
or the wheel.
the steps we take are part of
one of the most energy-efficient gaits the
animal kingdom has ever seen.
we invented the concepts of love
and hate
and justice, and mercy
and we invented the language to convey them.
we sharpened rocks, then metal, to convince other people
who don’t hold the same idea of those things as we do
because we think
it’s right.
we are two hundred millennia of love and disappointment and
sorrow and innovation and
mercy and kindness and dreams
and failure
and recovery.
but sex is what makes us human.
