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The optimal dashtributor

@chaoskiro / chaoskiro.tumblr.com

At least according to some (me). Kiro, ey/em/eir, ace, Danish, major (or at least not a minor). I reblog whatever posts I like, I think I would be happy if my dash was just the posts I reblog. I use queue almost all the time. Ask away if you want to. [Avatar ID: a spectrum view of a sound that looks like a screaming pineapple. Cover ID: a picture of pink and yellow Russel lupines at night. End ID]

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Halløj! I'm Kiro and while I mostly reblog stuff (the uplifting reblogs go in the tag "pick me up", so look there if you want to be cheered up, that's what I do ; ), I will sometimes make original posts and they are mostly all tagged with kirokiro.

I spend a great deal of time podficcing and my various adventures into that go into the tag "podkiro". You can see what I recorded this summer here and I am, as of posting this, in my 10th month of working my way through podficcing @hppjmxrgosg's amazing story Vertical limit it is fun and I talk about it in the tag "vertical limit pod" (and podkiro of course).

I am kinda trying to stream line my tags by making them all somethingkiro, we will see if it'll work. So far we have podkiro, craftkiro and I think artkiro might be added when I finally sit down and do something visual again. Since this tagging system is new, if you for some reason want to go digging in my old posts you will have to look under "personlig", have fun I guess!

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Reblogged

Someday your hands will be old and wrinkled, the skin spotted and bunching over your knuckles. And a child will watch you make something. It's a simple task, you'll have done it a thousand times before. But to that child, the smooth, confident way your hands move will seem like impossible magic. You have to keep living.

prev these tags have me crying. this is absolutely what it's all about

[Image ID: Tumblr tags reading: #i sat next to a student this week and played piano alongside them #and suddenly my hands were my father's playing alongside little child me. 38 years and 6 years sat next to each other #one teaching. one learning. #i remember sitting and admiring the confident way my father's hands moved on keyboard #and i could see my little student stealing sideways glances at my hands. imitating my posture. envying my sureness #it was a weird mirror into my own past #i wonder how many generations of humans have had this parallel experience? #not only on the piano keyboard which tops out at about 10-13 generations 3but on the guitar. the harpsichord. the harp and the lyre. the drums. the lute and theorbo. etc etc etc /End ID]

yeah I'm an airship mechanic. I got that big ass wrench and the boots that are too big, but also, and this is important, goggles I do not use correctly

this is a confession to the star wars fandom because I have to get this off my chest. last summer just for fun I taught myself to read aurebesh and. you fanartists have Got to Continue putting the most Hilarious stuff into the background of your art because it is literally my favorite thing

here’s a couple of excellent things I’ve read since I started keeping a list just last month:

- “I hate drawing lightsabers”

- “Idk what to put here”

- “stupid fucking sign”

- “eat paste, it’s good”

- an entire news article on a phone screen which I actually found really impressive

- a few funny misspellings but the best one so far was ahsoka somehow becoming “asock”

- wanted poster of obi wan that read “wanted for fashion crimes”. the caption translated it as “wanted for high treason”. like blatantly lying to my face. love it.

- door on a ship was labeled “cake storage”

- “shopping list: frogs, hair gel, lightsaber polish”

and my personal favorite:

- “if you’re reading this you’re a fucking nerd”

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Reblogged

Thinking about how Clark cuts his own hair by laser-eyes-ing himself via mirror and like. How in the hell did he figure that out?? Was Martha one day when he was like, six, go “okay son I know your new powers are scary but that hair is scarier, we gotta figure something out.” Or, he develops his powers later in life right? College aged Clark has been teased One Too Many Times for his hair and he looks in the mirror and goes that’s enough im cutting this shit off no matter what it takes. How did he figure out mirrors can bounce the lasers off? What was going through his head the first time he stared into a mirror knowing he was about to shoot lasers at his face? And hopefully only his hair would be cut? How bad was that first haircut? I have so many questions.

I NEED SOMEONE TO DRAW A YOUNG CLARK WITH A HORRIBLE HAIRCUT, COMING OUT OF THE BATHROOM AND CONSIDERING HOW HE'S GOING TO TELL MARTHA WHAT HE JUST DID.

"The good news is that I already discovered how to cut my hair, the bad news is that I am a bad hairdresser"

Clark, age fifteen, hiding behind the doorframe: okay Ma. Good news and bad news and weird news. They’re all weird news, actually.

Martha Kent, has been raising an alien she found in her yard for fifteen years now: honey there isn’t much you can say that will surprise me, hit me with it

Clark: good news! The mirror isn’t broken!

Martha: …okay

Clark: weird news! I can shoot lasers out of my eyeballs

Martha: you can WHAT

Clark, coming out from behind the door: this is the bad news

[i tried to google haircut fails but nothing was bad enough for me so fill this part in with your Imagination]

being a humanities major who’s friends with stem majors is so funny because you’ll ask your friends what they’re doing today and they’re like “UGH it’s so stressful i have to stabilize the reactor core for my nuclear power midterm and then i have to build the supercomputer from i have no mouth yet i must scream for my electrical engineering homework :/ what about you” and you’re like “oh well i have to read a fun little book and write an essay about gender.” and they still think you have it worse

Being a stem major who's friends with humanities majors is ALSO funny bc you ask what's goin on with them and they're like "oh yeah my day's pretty good! I only have to read 50 pages for this one class today and half a book for another one. It's much better than last week where I read three books and wrote a 10 page paper about their overlapping motifs for one class while also researching a niche period of time that our library doesn't have any resources on. How's it been for you?" and you're like "oh I have a lil packet of fun math puzzles due tomorrow." and they look at you like you're carrying the weight of the universe on your back

This is your reminder that just because something falls within the skillset you've practiced, so you can do it and you don't find it particularly hard or stressful relative to other things, it doesn't mean it isn't actually hard work you should be proud of yourself for accomplishing!

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

I fell asleep in my friends' arms. It was eleven at night, we were tired, curled up in a small pile on my tiny bed. I had my head buried in my roommate's side, and one of my closest friend's hand on my shoulder, steadying me. It was quiet and nothingness and peace and their heartbeats in my ears, my hands in their hair.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

We pack four people to that little bed, you know. Laps used as footrests, collarbones as pillows, little lights like moonlight in rustic yellow bathed on their faces. The TV plays an anime. The words are repeated by my dear friend on my shoulder, curled close. My legs are asleep; my roommate may be, too.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

The cat curls on top of our criss cross mess of legs and arms and heads on chests to absorb the warmth of us all. She purrs in contented peace. When my roommate and I are left alone in the quiet, she cries, and watches the door for our friends' return.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

I will never kiss them but the top of their heads. I will never touch but the warmth of their arms. I will never take more than what's freely given, and in return I put my glasses on the bedside table fashioned from a guitar amp, and when I lean into their sides, I pick up my vulnerability and place it in their capable, tender hands.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

I sing for them. I cry for them. I work and I run and I withstand the worst of the world for them, because some days I get to cradle their forehead on my shoulder and some days I get to see their shining eyes.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

Maybe to you. But look beyond explanation. I love them. With my heart in my unsteady hands, with my nose pressed to the side of their head, with the buzzing in my feet and the warmth all around Iike the sunset pushing into the window.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

Is it enough to say I love them? With no strings attached? With reckless abandon and utter devotion and freedom and kindness and fear?

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

I cannot explain it any clearer. I love my friends. There is no more to say.

The computer, which is widely used for playing solitaire[1], calculating large prime numbers[2][3], finding gay hook-ups[4], and organizing political extremism[5][6][7],

there’s a difference between “just do a little yoga it will cure your depression forever :)” and “going for a run won’t solve your problems but it will make you feel a little better and that’s the first step” but this site seems to treat them as the same thing

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merrilymarymary

Taking care of yourself is still good even if it won’t cure you. Cleaning my room won’t cure my anxiety or make me less lonely but it is a healthier environment to live in.

When I was a kid, my mother used to make a point of teaching me and my brother outside of schooling. She came from an incredibly progressive family, and has always been a big believer that ignorance always leads to a lot of the evil we see in the world

Basically, we’d do…what I guess you call additional study, after school? Which might sound tedious or bad, but we loved it, even my brother who didn’t enjoy school or academics and had a serious learning disability.

We used to use some old encyclopaedias we thrifted, but nowadays you could use Wiki or something similar. We’d open the book, choose a random topic, and spend the next month or so learning about it.

My mother would often have it so we had a few different things we were learning about in month: a place/culture, a religion, a historical event, a person, etc. My brother and I had those cheap, A4 spiral books, and we’d go to the public library and research, write down little notes, draw diagrams. We’d do activities like paint maps of new places or new animals we’d learned about.

I’ve been getting back into this again, and I cannot stress enough how enriching it is. It’s easier now with the internet available, but I still have an A4 book I jot little notes in. It’s alleviated a lot of boredom and restlessness. I can highly recommend.

I’m religious but not generally superstitious and my dad and brother are atheists so it’s interesting how we’ve formed superstitions around ourselves anyways. Maybe it’s because we’re theatre people.

You must follow all theatre superstitions. That’s a given. Don’t say good luck to someone about to do a performance, don’t say Macbeth in a theatre, etc.

But we’ve also got some homegrown ones of our own. For example, don’t eat barbecue pork on election night. If an appliance stops working you need to insult it immediately. If you hope for something you need to knock on your head or it won’t happen.

It's like how you don't roll dice when the DM doesn't tell you to, because you might waste a nat 20.

See as someone who likes statistics I know that’s not a real thing but at the same time I Get It.

I know logically that rubbing the dice between my hands first won’t make it any more likely for me to get the number I need when I’m playing a board game but I’m gonna do it anyways.

I learnt in anthropology class that superstitions form in situations governed by chance or chaotic forces, where humans have low agency to influence the outcome. It has nothing at all to do with religion or spiritual beliefs, it's just a thing that happens.

Certain professions and activities are prone to superstitions developing for this reason

I wrote a paper last year about maritime superstition and how it’s an early strategy to cope with anxiety in high risk scenarios. The research I saw basically showed that it helped reduced anxiety and improve decision making by giving sailors a feeling of control, making superstitious sailors (typically generational fishermen) safer on board than their newer coworkers.

Newer fishermen were more likely to work on larger scale vessels than generational fishermen, where they have less control over operational decisions as well which was more likely to contribute to a feeling of helplessness > higher anxiety > no coping strategies > poor operational decision making.

Essentially the old timers on their old boats with their arbitrary rules about whistling kinda made their own safety with that coping strategy.

Anyway shout out John J. Poggie.

skinner did a study that found that pigeons also develop arbitrary, ritualistic behaviors that seem to be analogous to superstition. the animals in the study that were fed at random times developed odd movements compared to animals fed at regular times, and when hungry or impatient the animals would perform the odd movements repeatedly, as though to trigger the feeding they wanted. even though the feeding time never stopped being random.

This is why ER staff and labor & delivery staff are the most superstitious medical people, because they have the least control over what happens on their shift

The good news: you get to pick your new soulmate! (You can define "soulmate" however you want: platonic/romantic/partners in crime/etc. But they will be in your life, constantly.)

The bad news: you don't get to pick where they come from.

Spin this wheel until you get a fandom with characters that you recognize. As soon as you do, stop. One of those people* is going to be a constant presence in your life, whether you like it or not. So choose wisely.

*broadly defined

i know some people will take this in the worst faith possible but some people here put way too much emphasis on the act of following someone on social media. like when i follow someone it means

  • i want to see their posts

and does not mean

  • i necessarily agree with those posts
  • i'm their close personal friend
  • i'd like to put forward my personal vouch for everything this user has ever done or said, especially their political opinions

& it is odd to me that many people kind of treat it as the latter. it ony a blog

kind of weird how parts of your soul are left in various locations without any warning… like yes i’m always at the top of that hill, sitting at the bus stop, in the cool light of the Japanese restaurant, standing at the pier etc etc

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