#in progress?

[monty-june]

ok but fr fuck the loa users saying you have to do anything to get your desires.

you are invincible, meaning IN VIN CI BLE.

you don't have to have a stupid mental diet. you can have doubts. you can spiral.

you can let your beautiful human body system fight for equilibrium as naturally as it wants to.

you don't have to tap back to the dwelling god state, you can stay having the worst time of your life for as long as you want to.

and guess what? IT DOESN'T MATTER. YOU WILL MAINFEST.

nothing can stop you from getting what you want. there's nothing you could do, or could happen, to fuck yourself up. be human, for fuck’s sake, it doesn't matter. it doesn't do or stop shit. you're still a god no matter what.

[scribbling-padawan]

Haven’t drawn or painted anything in several months but I finally sat down and decided to, no matter how bad or frustrating it might be. Didn’t feel the need to yell at anything, might be because I got way too attached to General Di in that Ryloth arc and I had fun drawing him. Might do some mini sketches too, and then add pencil colour and experiment a bit.

Also I hate drawing and shading fabric but I’m gonna do that another day

[botanyshitposts]

Sorry to use you for communication but I NEED to talk to boolean plasmid PhD anon. What qualifications did you have to get into that? I'm a senior ecology/botany undergrad but increasingly interested in computer stuff, and I really want to know what kinds of jobs / self-taught skills I should aim for before grad school to get into those sorts of programs. Should I teach myself programming languages (R & Python?) and hope my one stats class is enough for a bioinformatics internship?

@ that anon? 

[ramble-monty-june]

there are, and will always be, so many new stories being made! because:

• kids are no longer oppressed by the old school system

- nor are other groups of people by white supremacy

- and can learn about how to write complex stories from the new system

• it’s easy to have devices & the Internet, and make their own books w/ printers and book maker apps and such

• stories aren’t suppressed by white supremacy anymore

• the world is too magical now to not be inspired

plus:

• kid characters are only voiced by kids (like the magic school bus cast)

• black people are only voiced by black people

• people with speech impairments are only voiced by ppl of that demographic, etc. 🩷

[dragonspine-ost]

https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/Cato#English

https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/Fabius#English (a bean oh my god?)

https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/Ivo#English

https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/Yvonne#French

https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/Cory#English

[everythingunravels]

4/18/2016 how do you tell someone you miss him? or the intimate parts of your brain? like the first time you skipped class or the first time you realized you were sad or the second or the third; the reasons for bad birthdays; the first meal you skipped and then the first workout you skipped and the birthday that saved you. the first time i tried whiskey! and decided it was mine! because i was sick of the things from that fateful fall semester! needing to learn everything i had been missing during self-destruction and recovery. how do i say that missing you is a mixture of my favorite song - live before my rosy cheeks and crying eyes and turning 24 - when the darkness hid my rosy cheeks and crying eyes: the differences are numerous similarities of three - heart beating. silence. breathless. somehow you have found your way into both. how does this happen when this hasn't happened? where do i go now? i can't say but i'll stay.

[brandonrambles]

Here’s some shitty writing

She held him close to her chest, this small brown thing that had once been part of her. A dull ache remained in her body where he had been growing, growing so fast she had thought she’d be torn into pieces trying to get him out of there. But she had stretched too, she had grown around his little growing self, and she had felt him writhing and squirming. At night, she held her breath and tried to listen to the sound of his heartbeat swimming through her blood. She tried to still her own heart to see if she could decipher in the soft, fluttering waves inside of her, what rhythm his heart was taking on, to see if it was like hers or like his daddy’s. His heart threw a beat inside of her, but the shape of it, the contour of his heart’s rhythm was always beyond her full grasp. But she learned to love that almost sound, that almost rhythm, as it brushed against the rim of her dreams and her prayers. She didn’t pray much, just for the big things: healthy baby, a good job, lots of happiness. Lord, she wanted him to be happy and healthy. What she wanted more than anything for herself was just for her baby to be happy and to find love.