AnasAbdin
@theartofmadeline
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Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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★
titsay
Love Begins
almost home
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
$LAYYYTER
Product Placement
blake kathryn
oozey mess
🪼
pixel skylines
Three Goblin Art
tumblr dot com
Misplaced Lens Cap
ojovivo
seen from Malaysia
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seen from Nepal
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seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
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seen from Austria
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@whimsicaltuesday
[id: graffiti on the base of a concrete overpass where previous grafiti has been covered over with gray paint multiple times. In black all-caps handwriting, it reads: "What kind of paint are you using to paint over this? Because if it is latex, its probably way too cold for it, you want good adhesion, you need like at least 40°-45°. Maybe wait till it warms up a little, I mean what's the big rush? Like, I'm in a rush now but our situations are different" /end id]
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One should always have at least 2 craft projects going. That way, when one of them is messed up and misbehaving, you can switch to another, and let the first one sit there and think about what it's done.
Sometimes (oftentimes), when a creative project is "misbehaving," it's because it is tired, and overstimulated, and just needs a time out to rest -- like toddlers often need.
And sometimes, you should give your creative projects time to talk to each other, as well as to you.
Instructions unclear; my 17 ongoing craft projects have unionized against me.
Fascinated by stories of the - I guess you'd call it the "stolen identity" genre, like, of the Anastasia Romanov variety. But - from both sides.
Your husband has been at war for thirty years. You married when you were teenagers. The man who returns bearing his name looks... plausible, you don't remember his eyes being quite so blue, but it's been thirty years and it's not like you could ever afford to have a portrait painted. He knows your name and the names of your children and your parents, but there are curious gaps in what he remembers. But war does things to the mind. And if he's kinder than you remember? Kind enough that, maybe, you let yourself believe...
No one has ever looked twice at you, since you're just the maid, until the day a revolutionary bomb goes off, blowing a crater in the summer palace. The famously reclusive duchess and the rest of her household lie dead in the rubble. You know that you and she were the same dress size. You know where her jewels are kept. Most importantly, you know the location of the secret tunnel that leads down to the docks, and to a life overseas that would be torturously hard going for a poor maid, especially one suspected as a thief, but a lot more comfortable for a royal in exile...
The old king's most faithful retainer swears this is the heir to the throne, raised in secret and trained to one day step into his father's shoes. As the usurper as dragged off the throne, she screams that the old king's children are all dead, she made sure of it; no one pays her any heed. (Maybe they should have...)
The man in the tavern is buying drinks for the whole bar before he sets sail tomorrow for the far side of the world. He's got it all figured out - a ship of his own, retirement to a tropical paradise when he gets sick of the pirating life. His lip curls as he talks about the stultifying boredom of the aristocratic world he's already left behind. You find out that his parents recently died, and the estate is in the care of his younger sister, who was only six when her brother first left home two decades since. Between the lines, they sound like a good family; they sound like they love him, the way your family never did. Your heart aches. He shows you portraits, letters, before shoving them carelessly back in his coat pocket. They would be so easy to lift...
It's a surprisingly common concept and I just love it. It's The Return of Martin Guerre; it's multiple 90s romcoms; Agatha Christie pulls it half a dozen times. Sooner or later, it crops up in fanfic for just about any fandom with a royal or aristocratic main character.
And I can see why, because there's so much richness to it. From the outside, it can be anything from a horror story to an unlikely love story; from the perspective of the person pulling off the con, a heist movie or a tragedy or a heartwarming tale of found family. And then there are the longer-term implications: What happens if you wear a mask so long that it becomes who you are? What happens if you come to love the "replacement" to the point where you don't want to find out the truth? What is it like to uncover such a deception a century down the line, to find out that your great-grandfather... wasn't?
Just. Identity stories, man. <3
I love the idea of dead gods. Not in the sense of “hey i killed something supernaturally strong” but in the sense of “i killed it and it’s still a god.” It is still worshipped. prayers are still answered. miracles are performed in its name, even as it lies pierced by a thousand swords and burning with chemical fire. even as it drifts through vacuum, decapitated and bleeding molten rock. in cosmic spite of being shot through each eye and hurled into a plasma reactor, it still radiates the power of the divine in a way that primitive death cannot smother. the nature of godhood is not so simple as to be tied to the mortality, or immortality, of any living being.
These wonderful people have a single braincell to share but unfortunately none of them are using it
perhaps some will disagree, but i think the world got worse when we changed the colour of the night
this is what i mean
Via @bulbaderp
To be clear, THIS is how nights of the future should be lit
This is bat friendly street lighting, which not only looks sick as fuck but allows bats to pass through without disturbance, as they cannot see red.
orange and especially white lights deter bats and prevent them from reaching feeding grounds at nighttime. Please if you can, write to your local council and encourage red street lights!!!!
“The courage it took to get out of bed this morning to face the same things over and over was enormous”
-Charles Bukowski
“I usually solve problems by letting them devour me”
-Franz Kafka
“People empty me , I have to get away to refill”
-Charles Bukowski
logoside:
Tips and homespun for the apocalypse that sooner or later will end up coming. So, keep well this post.
The tutorial for people who ain’t gonna die.
I’m reblogging this for future reference for when there is no more future.
is no one gonna ask what the hell is wrong with that cat? lol
history keeps pulling me down
Falling, Florence + the Machine // The Fall of Icarus, Rene Milot // Fallen Angel, Andreas Birath
Perhaps minimalist design is so prevalent because we no longer have anything to say.
The Cultural Tutor
@legendofthehiddenbbc and her “every renovated house looks the same” tag.
I also see a weirdly patronizing attitude towards decorated architecture and furniture
like. I was actually told by someone on here that preferring Art Nouveau design to modernism is a sign of immaturity. no joke
so there’s this strange idea we seem to have in the back of our collective mind now that detailed/decorated = childish?
(I agree, though, with the take in the notes that it’s less because we have nothing to say and more because a blank and unremarkable slate is easier to put up quickly and wipe clean as needed for Runaway Capitalism Purposes)
It’s cheaper to make the minimalist thing. That’s the depressing, soul-crushing crux of it.
we were discussing wills and inheritances in the breakroom today and one of the boys brought up that he heard if you hate someone in your family, you’re supposed to leave them something, literally anything, even if it’s just like 1 penny, so that they can’t sue and say you just forgot them, and one of the other boys said why wouldn’t you just say like “I specifically do not leave anything to this person” and one of the girls piped up “No, leave them 1 penny, it’s a bigger fuck you” and then she paused and goes “No wait, tell them that you leave them everything in the box you’ve buried in the woods and they have to go find it and dig it up and then they can have everything in it, but it’s just 1 penny” and because I am a writer, and thinking up wild things to have happen is part of the writing job description, I (without looking up from my computer where I was currently writing a story) said “or a bomb. I mean, you hate them right” and i looked up and everyone was looking at me and the girl (who FYI is a horror movie enthusiast and I had figured on appreciating the joke) goes “well. I mean, what are they going to do, arrest me? I’m dead.” and I wish I could bottle the looks on the boys’ faces.
Whole-heartedly BEGGING writers to unlearn everything schools taught you about how long a paragraph is. If theres a new subject, INCLUDING ACTIONS, theres a new paragraph. A paragraph can be a single word too btw stop making things unreadable
Ok So I’m getting more notes than I thought quicker than I expected! So I’m gonna elaborate bc I want to.
I get it, when you’re someone who writes a lot and talks a lot, it’s hard to keep things readable, but it’s not as much about cutting out the fat(that can be a problem) so much as a formatting issue.
You are also actively NERFING yourself by not formatting it correctly, it can make impactful scenes feel so, so much better. Compare this,
To THIS.
Easier to read, and hits harder.
No more over-saturated paragraphs. Space things out.
@s1ld3n4f1l WAIT WAIT WAIT SO TRUE LITERALLY LITERALLY
the rain knows all my secrets
tiger tale toys 🐀🐁
PAPERWORK
Why is today literally Thursday lol
This post is your reminder that you are not obligated to blog about current events.
Things are bad. Really bad. Do not let people guilt trip you into tormenting yourself even further over the fact that things are bad. Doomscrolling is not activism.
If you’re just on tumblr to blorbopost or reblog pretty pictures, you are not harming people by inaction.
You are not a bad person for not dedicating every aspect of your life and leisure space to whatever disgusting mask-off attack on human life and dignity some government has decided to enact.
Take action where you can, but don’t confuse doomscrolling and digital self harm for action.
If you need to lose yourself in blorboposting, go for it.
If you need to log off for the day, whether it’s to take irl action or to protect what little sanity any of us have left over the past 7 years, then by all means, do.
Morale is important. Hope is important. Small joys keep us from burning out completely in times like this. Do not let any “if you don’t reblog this I’m judging you” guilt trip convince you otherwise.
