lastsonlost:

infectedcatgirlbite:

garrettwrites:

Follow me on Twitter for more vampire nonsense

human: dude you’ve been in our d&d group for literally like three years, you don’t need to keep asking if you’re invited every time

vampire: i knowww, i just get anxious ok?

human: oh fair

I feel personally attacked. Lol

(via moose-choreographer)

thethief1996:

In the last weeks in Palestine

• They keep demolishing homes in Silwan, and families are having to choose between demolishing their homes themselves or pay a fine to the Israeli government. Children are sleeping in their cars as their homes are demolished against their will.
• Musa Hassouneh was shot and killed by a mob in Lydd. On the 13th, her father had to leave the city after the Israeli mayor threatened to kill him
• IOF demolished the village of Khirbet Humsa for the sixth time in less than an year, throwing their belongings, including food packages, 7 miles away
• The IOF also demolished another village in Humsa, the Jordan Valley. Here’s a video of a child asking where the army is coming from
• IOF pepper sprayed a one year old while confiscating a tractor in Um Al Jamal in the Jordan Valley. Here’s a video of the child receiving care after the attack
• Israel shut down the office of the Palestinian agricultural union in Ramallah
• Settlers from a nearby settlement raided and threw stones at homes in Huwara, in the West Bank. IOF provided cover for the settlers to walk back to their settlement. In a separate episode, they injured a child who was herding their cattle.
• IOF confiscated a health facility in Masafar Yatta, in the West Bank. Here’s a video of them brutalizing an elder protesting the confiscation
• Israel has demolished the home of a prisoner as punishment. On July 14, a group of Birzeit University students visited the family to show support and all 45 of them were arrested. The IOF had the audacity to tweet the youth they arrested were a part of a Hamas student cell in Ramallah
• Even though they announced they would retreat the colonizer settlement in Beita, the IOF is still building a military base and a religious school there. Palestinians have been resisting everyday for months and have been brutally repressed
• In June 9th, the IOF injured 411 people in Beita, including a child named Mohammad Hamayel who was shot with live bullets to his spleen and shrapnel to his waist.
• These kind of bullets with explosive shrapnel are prohibited under international law, but have been used consistently against Beita residents. On top of that, they’ve been making access of ambulances and other medical services difficult to residents.
• IOF shot a shepherd in Beita because he refused to follow orders. On another episode, 19 year old Hussam Asaira was killed trying to protect his village
• The IOF has been consistently brutalizing Palestinians in Jerusalem. Here’s a video of protesters being attacked in the Damascus Gate.
• IOF keeps brutalizing residents in Sheikh Jarrah. Here’s a video of an attack that ended up injuring Aref Hammad, an elder resident in risk of displacement
• Yesterday (July 18th) settlers and IOF soldiers raided Al Aqsa mosque. They beat women, attacked worshippers and shot live bullets inside the mosque to make way for Israeli Jewish visitors
• This thread talks about how settlers want to demolish Al Aqsa to build a biblical park, exactly like they’re doing with Silwan
• Here’s a video of the attacks and this thread shows videos of IOF brutalizing women, including attacking and stealing a woman’s prayer mat
• They bolted the doors to the mosque to stop Palestinians from praying.

Don’t look away from Palestine. Israel will keep on doing these crimes if they think they can get away with it. The best we can do is to clog zionist propaganda. Palestinians have been systemically silenced on social media and news outlets, and Muna El Kurd, one of the leaders of the Save Sheikh Jarrah movement, has already said that spreading the word is very important to fight zionism.

Be angry and amplify Palestinian voices. The above links go back to activist accounts, follow them and share their updates. Attend protests (here’s a constantly updating list of pro Palestine protests) and follow organizations to know when the next ones will be held. Some of them: USCPR, Palestinian Youth Movement, Within our Lifetime, Arab Resource and Organizing Center, and Mohammed El Kurd (he often posts calls for action from all over the world on his stories).

(via sengawolf)

lady-fingaeriel:

Sons of Fëanor by Julia Reizen

https://www.artstation.com/artwork/lxneYO

I love the evil smirk on Celegorm!

daughter-of-sapph0:

chismosite:

July 17, 2021. Los Angeles

Police shoot, beat, chase, and arrest anti-fascist counterprotestors yesterday. The counter-protestors began demonstrating outside a Proud Boy anti-trans rally at WiSpa. The police beat clearly marked press and shot either a rubber bullet or bean bag at a woman at point blank range. The police even got an AMBER alert sent out citywide as part of their suppression of the ant-fascist protest.

Police explicitly protect fascism and fascists.

fash will make up transphobic lies, harass innocent people for no reason, and then shoot people who protest them. I can’t reiterate enough that this started because a fash lied and said that a trans woman was at the spa, a spa that trans women are allowed to be at, when there wasn’t a trans woman there, and more fash believed it and started harassing the employees and patrons and everyone else online and in person. all because someone said something completely untrue. and now the harassment has escalated to fucking shooting innocent people.

(via moose-choreographer)

First Date

littlerottingorangepeel:

Heyyyyyyy, so good to meet you! Pronouns? Nice chairs. Coffee’s a little pricey. They’re out of oat milk. Caffiene flares my anxiety. Wanna go to my place instead? Do you care if I smoke?

Do you want to trust me?

Here,

I’ll give you all the facts. You decide.

 
I never feed my cat wet food. I let her outside and I know better. I’ve let so many plants die because I can’t get up early enough to water them, or myself. Sometimes I tap past the GoFundMes on my friends’ stories. Oh and I’ve been a terrible mother to my poetry, like, it’s a whole metaphor:

inducing labor early, birthing barely conceived words, throwing them to the Instagram feed. Embryos spatter all over the algorithms. 

Yesterday someone told me they knew
“gifts ADHD brings” to the mind that “Capitalism obscures.” I

’d like to know, wouldn’t you? I’d like that list, just, you know, for the sake of journalism. Nothing to do with self worth.

Not because my own inattention gnaws, hungry. I’m building self-worth. I follow so many psychologists

and tarot readers

and astrologers

and burlesque dancers -  

What do I want out of life? 

I’d like to dance again. I’d like to write a gift that doesn’t feel unhewn. One might say, like my English professor back when I in school trying to get somewhere
“I’d like to see something more…polished.”

Like the worry stones they sell at import stores. Do you have one of those? They’re dimpled carefully to feel exact -

 "dumb as old medallions to the thumb,” as Archibald MacLeish said. Sorry, it’s either basic or pretentious to quote poets, or anyone outloud. I’m not trying to impress you. Its just I was sixteen when I read “Ars Poetica” and the phrase stuck with me like no lover ever has. That too - I’d like

to be loved. To enchant you - 

may I draw attention to my desk? I collect miniature horses. Actually, they are miniature figurines of regular horses. Notice the bonsai has a new leaf!
Do you like this skull? The gilding is cheap. Its obviously not silver – could you imagine if it was? I like to point out its child-size, but with adult proportions. Size and ratios are two dimensions we don’t think about too much -

What is it I thirst for? Water, mostly. Publication. Most submission dates pass by with friendly nods and I try not to feel bad. Next time, I say, next time I’ll be ready. Clouds dream along & dissipate. I lay in the sun
 too often, according to this planner. I’ve kept a planner since I was seventeen. I’ve kept my anxieties caged, lined up it but they’re rowdy and sometimes escape in long scrawls to whiteboards my roommates can see. “”Anxiety lists” a roommate called them, then left me $1,200 short on rent and ditched.

My hands are constantly marking and being marked. In my family’s house I was known for inescapable pen stains

and a messy room

and being a girl. “Clean this up before I step on it,” you know the drill –  boring into you over and over until the inner artist crumples up like a bad first draft into the bin. No second draft is written, just catalogues of all that childish suffering

in blue BIC pen, wide-ruled notebooks from Christian publishers, curlique quotes about the Lord crossed with scrawling-

“For His eyes intently watch all who live good lives…I HATE MY MOM”

At some point the traumas of everyone and their mother get dragged

into some shadow box, slapped with color, and labeled Poem. Poet. Work. Collection. Artist. Creative. Fool. Joker. Jack. Why not get it over with, I say.

If you wear too many hats are you wearing any hats at all? At what point does streetwear slip into a costume, Facebook ‘vulnerability’

balloon into tabloid autobiography? Is emotion the performance of something more real (a feeling)? Is a poem a feeling? We sell feelings. Where’s Cinderella in your life? Who’s the wicked mother? Who is the audience? What role are you playing? Where’s the stale popcorn? What wasteful bastard left

trash in all your aisles? Do you think movie theater sex is ethical?

I want to know.

Have you ever eaten from an abandoned plate in a diner or snuck fountain soda in your ‘water cup’ while the cashier looked the other way?

Was it from hunger, or desire? Is desire just hunger in a different organ?
Is it as inarguable? Is propriety a juror’s panel for the contest: Best Lived Life? I real wonder what we get for competing. What’s in it for us? If I could rehearse and deliver answers, as sharable captions, would you fuck me? If you fucked me would you love it,
would you love all these scattered piles of half-remembered tasks, would you sweep

me on the bed with the crumbs and tracked cat litter and leaking, staining pens,

hold a finger to my lips, push it into my mouth, would your tongue join it, would you just hush me,

take me

give my body
some fucking stage directions?

rly good

(via sengawolf)

cahwwcabh:

swirlingflight:

“For example: A writer sets out to write science fiction but isn’t familiar with the genre, hasn’t read what’s been written. This is a fairly common situation, because science fiction is known to sell well but, as a subliterary genre, is not supposed to be worth study—what’s to learn? It doesn’t occur to the novice that a genre is a genre because it has a field and focus of its own; its appropriate and particular tools, rules, and techniques for handling the material; its traditions; and its experienced, appreciative readers—that it is, in fact, a literature. Ignoring all this, our novice is just about to reinvent the wheel, the space ship, the space alien, and the mad scientist, with cries of innocent wonder. The cries will not be echoed by the readers. Readers familiar with that genre have met the space ship, the alien, and the mad scientist before. They know more about them than the writer does. In the same way, critics who set out to talk about a fantasy novel without having read any fantasy since they were eight, and in ignorance of the history and extensive theory of fantasy literature, will make fools of themselves because they don’t know how to read the book. They have no contextual information to tell them what its tradition is, where it’s coming from, what it’s trying to do, what it does. This was liberally proved when the first Harry Potter book came out and a lot of literary reviewers ran around shrieking about the incredible originality of the book. This originality was an artifact of the reviewers’ blank ignorance of its genres (children’s fantasy and the British boarding-school story), plus the fact that they hadn’t read a fantasy since they were eight. It was pitiful. It was like watching some TV gourmet chef eat a piece of buttered toast and squeal, ‘But this is delicious! Unheard of! Where has it been all my life?’”

— Ursula K. Le Guin, Genre: A Word Only a Frenchman Could Love
(via queenofattolia)

(via sengawolf)