Queer, 27, Pagan, USA. ----- This blog consists mostly of bullshit I find funny and various video games. If you want to know anything or give me a shout out just shoot me a message.
Emotional Walls Your Character Has Built (And What Might Finally Break Them)
(How your character defends their soft core and what could shatter it) Because protection becomes prison real fast.
✶ Sarcasm as armor. (Break it with someone who laughs gently, not mockingly.)
✶ Hyper-independence. (Break it with someone who shows up even when they’re told not to.)
✶ Stoicism. (Break it with a safe space to fall apart.)
✶ Flirting to avoid intimacy. (Break it with real vulnerability they didn’t see coming.)
✶ Ghosting everyone. (Break it with someone who won’t take silence as an answer.)
✶ Lying for convenience. (Break it with someone who sees through them but stays anyway.)
✶ Avoiding touch. (Break it with accidental, gentle contact that feels like home.)
✶ Oversharing meaningless things to hide real depth. (Break it with someone who asks the second question.)
✶ Overworking. (Break it with forced stillness and the terrifying sound of their own thoughts.)
✶ Pretending not to care. (Break it with a loss they can’t fake their way through.)
✶ Avoiding mirrors. (Break it with a quiet compliment that hits too hard.)
✶ Turning every conversation into a joke. (Break it with someone who doesn’t laugh.)
✶ Being everyone’s helper. (Break it when someone asks what they need, and waits for an answer.)
✶ Constantly saying “I’m fine.” (Break it when they finally scream that they’re not.)
✶ Running. Always running. (Break it with someone who doesn’t chase, but doesn’t leave, either.)
✶ Intellectualizing every feeling. (Break it with raw, messy emotion they can’t logic away.)
✶ Trying to be the strong one. (Break it when someone sees the weight they’re carrying, and offers to help.)
✶ Hiding behind success. (Break it when they succeed and still feel empty.)
✶ Avoiding conflict at all costs. (Break it when silence causes more pain than the truth.)
✶ Focusing on everyone else’s healing but their own. (Break it when they hit emotional burnout.)
everyone post your biggest hear me outs my friend just showed me two conventionally attractive white men in a row i need to teach him what a real hear me out is
This is a modern approximation to the average Anglo-Saxon’s hlaef (loaf)
“. . . the Anglo-Saxons held their own feast of the opening of the harvest upon 1 August, the hlaef-mass, or loaf mass, from which derived its Medieval English and Scottish name of Lammas. As such it appears regularly in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, explicitly (in 923) as the feast of first fruits. The same name and title are echoed in another early English text, the Red Book of Derby. It was clearly by then the custom to reap the first of the ripe cereals and bake them into bread which was consecrated in church upon that day: a book of Anglo-Saxon charms advised the division of this holy bread into four pieces and the crumbling of each one in the corner of a barn in order to make it a safe repository for the grain about to arrive there. The festival was also known in medieval times as the Gule of August, a term which has vexed linguists, who have only been able to suggest that it signifies the Yule of August, a period of rejoicing similar to that of December. The difficulty evaporates if it is simply an Anglicization of the Welsh gwyl meaning feast, the Welsh name for 1 August being gwyl aust, the feast of August. Certainly the arrival of the time when the first of the harvest could be gathered would have been a natural point of celebration in an agrarian society, and the importance of the first day of August was already so well established by 673 that the Archbishop Theodore of Tarsus decreed that the annual synod of the newly established church in England should be held then. It would seem very likely therefore, that a pre-Christian festival had existed among the Anglo-Saxons upon that date . . .”
—Ronald Hutton Stations of the Sun
This is my favorite part of the recipe for cooking the “bread” that an average Anglo-Saxon (aka a poor one) would have eaten: “each side will probably take as long as it takes to say nine or ten Lord’s Prayers. This is how they measured cooking time in the medieval period.”
The Lord’s Prayer in Old English (I do actually recognize some of the words!):
‘Fæder ure þu þe eart on heofonum: si þin nama gehalgod to becume þin rice. Gewurþe ðin willa on eorðan swa swa on heofonum. Urne gedæghwamlican hlaf syle us todæg. And forgyf us ure gyltas swa swa we forgyfað urum gyltendum. And ne gelæd þu us on costnunge, ac alys us of yfele soþlice.’
I used 130 grams of all-purpose flour (not at all authentic but what I had) and added enough water to make a dough. Then kneaded it for 5 minutes and shaped it into two rounds.
“When the Anglo-Saxons were rich enough to own metal objects, they made brooches, not measuring spoons.”—The Early English Bread Project
I then went ahead and measured the time by chanting the Lord’s Prayer as mentioned above because this didn’t seem like simply a practical element to keep time, but you know, magic! Incantation! And since I planned on eating one of these to test it, and saving the other for Lammas rituals, the magic seemed like an essential ingredient.
Eight repetitions was plenty.
And I can’t help myself, a little syncretism with my Slavic Děduška blessing the bread for me.
Did I like this hlaef? No, I did not. I’m a spoiled lady of modern times, I guess. 🤷♀️
The Early English Bread Project said that traditionally the butter and cheese that would have been eaten with it was very salty which is why it was made without, but our modern butter and cheese probably didn’t make up for the lack. If I make it again to eat, and not just for ritual, I will probably add salt.
Do visit The Early English Bread Project for the types of flour thatwould have been used depending upon your degrees of poorness. And for such pithy comments as:
If you want to have an authentic stomach ache, you could add cockle, a troublesome weed that grew among the grain. Excavations in York showed that tenth-century bread had enough cockle to have given the eaters digestive discomfort.
… nimium gaudes hos manducare calentes! ‘You’re delighted to eat them when they’re hot!’ —scolding woman to King Alfred (Life of St. Neot ve
Next I made the leavened rich person version based on the recipe at the bottom of this post.
I cut the recipe in half as I knew no one else in the house would be interested in experimenting. I divided it into two loaves (hlaefs?). One to taste test and one for Lammas rituals.
Maybe I should have adjusted cooking times since I made smaller loaves. The outside was quite crusty.
This was much more to my refined tastes, however! 😜 I had it for second breakfast with butter and honey.
If anybody actually reads this and experiments, I’d love to hear your results/opinions.
This document provides a disclaimer for information contained on the website. It states that the information is intended as a general guide
#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
one of the reoccurring minor plots is that a 3 year old with the mental capacity of an adult is trying to abolish capitalism in the big city. there's a yeti couple living in an abandoned mansion and the guy yeti is like 10 times the size of and more visibly monstrous than the girl yet they made him a malewife. you can collect insects for a little girl that is insane about them and gives you strange and off-putting dialogue about each bug everytime you give her one and practically threatens you if you try to leave her home without giving her bugs she doesn't have yet. one of the modes of transportation in this game is being shot out of a giant canon by a depressed clown and landing on your feet with no injuries. there's a spaghetti western style minigame where the objective is to talk to 20 different cats. a chicken attempts to flirt with link. they made tingle into a sexyman caricature.
every time i start to feel cringe for being too deep in the hyperfixation i remember the intense depression i have waded through and have to remind myself that enjoyment is fleeting (so grab it with both hands), and life is for loving (so hold that love close), and if anyone thinks i’m cringe they must not be having a very good time (and i hope they can find a good time soon).
you are the weeds that keep the hill alive.
that regal tree, its flowers and its fruits,
cannot persist alone. you must survive;
in order to survive, you must have roots.
you must have a connection to the earth
to hold yourself, and hold it tight as well.
right now we feast! next day there might be dearth -
today we drink of pleasure's hidden well.
for if not you, then who will take your place?
not now? there may not be another time.
this joy is fleeting, nothing we can waste -
grab with both hands, all roots, with chord and rhyme.
each voice in choruses you'll never know
is singing: stay. we love you. don't let go.
Every time you go in a public place and something ISN’T disgusting it’s because somebody cleaned it. Every time you feel comfortable using a public bathroom or sitting at a restaurant table or setting something on a gas station counter or playing on a playground it’s because somebody cleaned it.
Thank you to everyone who cleans the world, especially those who are underpaid and under appreciated.
