#frog words

[soulbornincoldandrain]

i dont understand prople who are like god i hate jeff winger hes such a bitch he sucks and hes often comedically and mostly only plot-necessarily geberally the nicest most empathetic and soundminded person in the group in most situations and then its well ya everybody sucks theyre all soo sucky except for abed he's so dorky and sweet and lovable and then its like. the guy who regularly actively participates in the actual psychological torture of his friends because he thinks itd make for good teevee or hes seen good tv do it and likes the structure of it all as if the point isnt that hes just as sucky as all of them that's why theyre a friendgroup not an abedcentered polycule with jwinger at the other end of the moral spectrum because thats what the show wants u to believe is happening but its really evidently not so whats going on here guys its not even that one of them is better than the other or more likeable like a rlly core theme of it all is that they all suck but in a way that they all can uniquely forgive enough to make the friendship the Good Thing they need to survive this common hellxperience (college) why the abedworship i like the abedworship but to say hes the best of them all (persome moral code apparently) is not only factually wrong its also just like. have u seen the guy

[soulbornincoldandrain]

once u get past tv assigned shitty archetypes of character in cmunity u realise that jeff winger loved being loved soo much that when he found somebody he loved and didnt know what to do about it he set 2 carving a place awkward and painful for his sad broken friend into his life and said hey . uh . if u want it . like idk haha. you can have it and i want you here . for the better maybe and britta said im worthless in a way i dont think can redeem itself from within me i think and he said i dont think ur worthless i think you're brave in a way that cripples u sometimes and makes you so endlessly vital to your friends you'll never be alone and britta looked at him sad and said but within sitcom im synonymous with the most pathetic thing youve ever seen coolguy :( and he looked at her terrified and he said maybe but if im coolguy then i want you to be my antithesis best friend i wan tto try and tell you this terrified but ill say it nonetheless and that's why ur here for maybe when im less brave but you're you're like. the heart of the group. i present as the perfect solution in joy (ethos of motion within tv) (the holy power of the bit) but that's because ur the catharsis in the torturous cocoon (the dark space between episodes where real life touches you finally) (bridging pilot to finale) (carrying character from script to reality) you put the heart underneath the archetype that roots tv to Me. or you even. jeff winger kind as narrative device vs britta perry kind in essence and terrified of it, working hand in hand to deliver the protagonists narrative (thru reinforcing their narratives on ye side of the screen- one better one worse than the characters they love) delivering us to tv (friends) (family) (love) and tv to us (me) (you) (us).

posts that are incomprehensible and abt the science of illusion. s1 had some real greats.

[soulbornincoldandrain]

went to the void where nobody could've known you and told everyone your name. yeah their entire ideology of you is built upon my love for you that perseveres. they said you seemed really cool. yeah they said they'd document this love forever, thereby solidifying the reality of it. wdym of course im hitting delete on this message im never going to send it to you in this time this reality what are you stupid or something lmao yeah the love exists and grows but in my innate fear i will never give it the completion it desires i will stake it into reality for you to discover far away from me as text bridges loving author and loved reader. yeah im leaving you a dvd from when you were really small that you'll go miles to save into pendrives into .mp4s into .dats watching and rewatching before you'll ever understand how much i loved you, of course. this love has existed long before you could comprehend it lol, and in the way it is staked into the history of your existence, will far outlive you as photograph outlives it's subject, as art outlives sentiment, until you find it again and then spend one more lifetime trying to interpret it to completion, btw. and that disparity between translations is also love, isn't that hilarious? yeah you wont even see this post but that's the point no

[soulbornincoldandrain]

lies in bed face down. worth noting that phoenix wright's concept of loyalty is so inherently flawed that he had to be made invincible in order for the storyline to proceed in a normal fashion. its so funny that shu takumi created a character so truly wretched in the head that when push came to shove, they essentially said "this man cannot die" because they built him that way. and its a question of why is he Twisted like that. his undying faith is the basis for plot movement in the games. like hey phoenix, why Do you trust edgeworth? why Did you risk your life and living for your mentor's younger sister? what. what fucking urged you to ignore every single warning sign that the miss hawthornes (yeah both of them) flashed you and made you. eat glass. run across a burning bridge (futilely, too). the diary page wasn't his faith, it was desperation. trusting apollo was his faith. trucy was his faith. to some degree, klavier was also his faith. embittered middle aged antihero who was supposed to lose all faith and he didn't. yeah he was plotting behind polly's back but in some fucked up way he was ready to trust him too. undying faith, in the most literal sense of the word. i am gripping him by the fucking neck. what wired you like this.

[soulbornincoldandrain]

humanity is like looks up at the stars. looks up at the stars. creates a god. looks up at the stars. creates science. looks up at the stars better with the help of science. makes poetry about the stars. looks up at the stars. looks up at the stars. tries to unravel the universe with the help of the stars. looks up at the stars. tells a loved one that their named is etched in the stars. looks up at the stars. looks up at the st

[soulbornincoldandrain]

miego as a ship is so funny to me because inherently, in my heart of hearts, i do ship lana and mia i think they're good and fit the series' predetermined attorney-prosecutor romantic trope i think they're cool girlfriends and i also think that mia is like. unsmart enough to fully use diego as a point of deflection, both for externalised homophobia and her own internalised boundaries on their (lanamia) relationship. introduce him around as her boytoy. flaunt him on her arm like a trophy wife, technically playing both lana and diego but neither of them mind. refuse to do anything more romantic than stand within a two foot radius of diego while going "yeah he's my boyfriend" type beat.

mia could convince herself that protecting her chief prosecutor girlfriend's reputation precedes any and all selfish desires she may have that are already being acted upon, she just won't say so. some fucko approaches them in public with a slightly suspicious look aimed towards lana and before she can even open her mouth mia proudly starts gushing about her relationship with diego and lana is just sitting there gently patting her arm like babe. babe you don't have to do this i promise but mia is an unstoppable force (gay) and immovable object (lawyer from the aa-verse) all at once

and diego is just so hooked onto having a big tiddie girlfriend he literally doesn't even care if they're not dating. mia would be sweating bullets standing between diego and lana going "yeah this is miss skye whom i admire greatly in a distinctly professional way way and also i think she's incredibly smart and capable and i respect her as a fellow barrister and i think her hair smells awesome and i love how assertive she is in court but also fun to talk to and this is the guy im dating, mr armando" meanwhile diego is just grinning like yeah my girl has epic tits and lana is overjoyed that mia loves her new shampoo, because she's actually too smart to be bothered about the semantics of this dynamic as long as she gets to kiss her awesome girlfriend whenever she'd like to

mia would introduce diego to maya once as an experiment and he'd be like good evening miss tiny girl ma'am i really vibe with your elder sister and mia is like yeah doesn't he, my totally male and totally real male boyfriend who im sexually attracted to meanwhile maya is like lol sis i thought you had a crush on that prosecutor lady and mia is like. brain freeze. it's an intellectual thing and diego is shrugging like yeah they're just like that and he'd fully believe it

(lana could be like you do know your "girlfriend" makes out with me in the defendant lobby right and he'd be like women kiss sometimes. im not sexist. and they'd go on dates and hold hands and love each other earnestly and he'd be sipping his coffee like nice i respect when women expand their scope of interest and don't limit themselves to their male partners as stereotypes dictate)

bonking their heads together like plastic dolls. anyways

[soulbornincoldandrain]

everyday i make myself a mug of coffee and remind myself that aa3 was the perfect culmination to a trilogy ever except that's an essay for another time anyways anyone ever think about how godot lost everything

lost everything three times over because i do oh boy i think about it so much because he had! so much! he was The hotshot lawyer who was doing so well for himself oh he was cocky and likeable and then he Died thanks to his own hubris but could that really really have been helped?

and then he came back to a life where the woman he had so much admiration and respect for was dead, and maybe he could've prevented it maybe he couldn't have maybe he was so caught up in avoiding the knife he was (unnecessarily) holding to his own neck that he blamed the one person who had no hand in her murder, who played the savior and embodied everything he couldn't have been and he's so selfish but god he was supposed to be the good guy but now even the woman he cared about so much hates what he's become

because now he's playing the villain but he's doing it so badly, the antihero but he's just. pathetic, isn't he and he's trying he's trying to save Everyone but he couldn't save Anyone and at this point he's just a culmination of bad choices and bloody hands but he can't see red, isn't that funny, he can't see the blood on his hands but it's there and he knows it's there

and then there comes the savior, there comes the plot-appointed hero of the day and godot can only watch as he does Everything Right where godot only did wrong and he has to. accept it. he's gotta accept that he fucked up because he fucked up so bad and he was supposed to be the good guy but he wasn't and he knows this too and he loses everything all over again but maybe it's less painful this time because he never had anything to lose this time around so maybe that's why it's easier to let the hero have his way and godot goes to prison in the end doesn't he he's the lowly criminal at fault in the end and isn't that neat i just think he's so neat

[soulbornincoldandrain]

im alright. no you lost your sharpener once when you were eight and so your dad took your pencil from you and led you to his cupboard where he took out an old razor and declared he could just do it by hand, and you watched as he chipped away at the wood bit by misshapen bit until the lead emerged and he told you this is how they used to do it in their classrooms back when boys were rougher around the edges and they'd laugh over the piles of discarded shavings and sliced fingertips -and your dad went, careful not to cut yourself on that edge- and by this time your sibling was standing in the next room having found your sharpener but your dad was already onto that long exposed lead and then he handed you the pencil with a sort of proud assurance that took something out of the chest, he said there you go, and you took it slowly because you didn't know how to tell him that the lead was too far out for it to last very long under your clumsily forceful eight year old scrawl and it looked so much uglier unshaped and unsightly than the smooth pointed tips shaped by your plastic pencil sharpener but you wanted. you Wanted this pencil to last forever, what with your father's lingering hand covering it as he handed it over and the eight year old boy thirty something years ago who slashed his fingers up trying to sharpen his pencils right and you recall this, turn it in and over your chest everytime you feel too big for yourself so no man, are you sure you're alright?