The Little lost fairy

Horse figure of the day: Trail of Painted Ponies "Sweetheart"

i just... i just wanna wake up to crab raves..

so. many crab rave.. plese

Horse figure of the day: Trail of Painted Ponies "Sweetheart"

For the love of God, sound on.

@vensre

Sometimes “Sound on” is a disappointment. This is not one of those times

Sometimes “Sound on” is

a disappointment. This is

not one of those times

Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.

i pray to vengeance on the sixth string of a guitar

(from this weeks speed draw :3)

Reblog to give prev a fucking break holy shit y’all

Yes. We all need a fucking break

5 years ago, I was in Rehab.

10 years ago, I was watching my Potential and Opportunities dissolve and evaporate in an ocean of cheap gin and expensive whiskey.

But 5 years ago, I was in Rehab.

One of the exercises they had us perform was to imagine ourselves happy, 5 years in the future.

Many of us in that room had forgotten how to imagine nice things happening to them. A few snorted (well, I snorted), finding the notion that we’d even still be around in 5 years grimly humorous.

For about half of us, it was the last stop on the way down.

But I indulged the therapist. I was there, after all, because I did not want to die. So, I imagined myself, 5 years hence.

Happy.

It came to me all at once; an artistic remix on Norman Rockwell’s Freedom From Want, reframed with myself placing food at the table.

Sunday Dinner At My Place, I answered, when it came my turn to share my fantasy. I was asked what food I imagined eating.

It’s not the meal itself, I said, it’s the implications framed around it. Sunday Dinner At My Place means that I have a Place. It means that I have Family that will actually speak to me and friends who actually want to see me. It means money enough not just to feed myself but others too. It means having the time to spare to take the time preparing the meal.

A lot of nodding heads all around me. A struck chord. Many people with no Place, in that place. Nowhere that would lament their leaving.

5 years hence, as I lay down to sleep in my Home, with my Wife and my Son, surrounded by my Art and my Flowers, I reflect.

It was a long road. It was hard. We lost people. So many people. There were long days and long nights and hospital stays. Angry arguments with ghosts. I changed, in ways I never hoped for, or expected. Good ways, finally, for once. Slowly, against the backdrop of a world in chaos, I found my mind.

Sometimes, My Wife wondered aloud, what she did to deserve me. After some stumbling with my feelings, I eventually settled on an answer.

I’m a Rescue.

She gave me a Home.

And, so, I gave her a Family.

It seemed fair

This Sunday, my folks, which whom I have not had a shouting match in years, will come over for dinner. We will cook and eat together. My Friend became My Wife, and she took a piece of me and with it she made Our Son. There will be many hugs, and no violence. Good Things Happened.

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but you don’t know what the future holds.

don’t give up yet, ok?

It could get good, even.

@hopepunk-humanity

Unmute !

POV: You are Simba

Love it when you can see the impending disaster before it hits, lol.

you know the camera is going down, so you’re just guessing which dog it’s gonna be

until suddenly you know

Almost bawling full out rereading Protector of the Small in a way I do not remember it affecting me as a kid. As a child the violence against Lalasa and the way Kel defends her weren’t as real to me. As a woman, it’s too real. Nevertheless I’m sure they shaped the way I think about the world and the service we owe each other in a profound way and I’m eternally grateful that authors like Tamora Pierce work to teach children to think about things like violence against women.

TL;DR? This book keeps getting me. The way she *clenches fist* protects the small.

" 'It digusts me,' whispered Baird, 'what people allow, if they think those who commit vile acts can help them to achieve some goal.' "

Lady Knight by Tamora Pierce

Yuki gifting Neal her shukusen. Scene from Squire

giving birth sucks tbh. not only do you and the baby you’re birthing almost die, usually you shit yourself and often you tear your taint. then you have to push an organ out of your body (placenta) and if even a little of that remains in your body, you can hemorrhage to death or develop an infection that essentially rots your body from the inside out. even if you had a relatively “easy birth”, you bleed for weeks on end. even after that stops, your body and brain is changed for the rest of your life, the pregnancy leeched minerals from your bones, that can cause osteoporosis later. minor urinary incontinence is not uncommon, brain scans of people who gave birth show permanent changes in their brain, you’re never quite the same.

I say all of this not to say giving birth is disgusting but it is a harrowing and visceral experience. society downplays how fucking awful it is and makes it out to be a ~magical~ experience but it isn’t a magical transformative experience for everyone. it can be an extremely traumatic experience for someone who wanted to carry a pregnancy to term, much more so for someone who did not want to be pregnant in the first place or someone who knows their baby won’t survive the birth. anyway, abortion is a right. pregnancy and birth aren’t just inconvenient, it’s fucking awful.

How is it that in this entire post you didn’t say the word “woman” once? Only one sex gives birth. Only women have these experiences, only women are at risk for everything mentioned here, women are the only people this applies to. Erasing the word enables the problem.

I’m an evil trans man with a big fat pussy and it’s my life’s purpose to erase women by using inclusive language. Everyone I make a post a random woman disappears off the planet. Clean vanishes. They’re renaming all maternity wards labor & delivery wards because of me. The word breastfeeding no longer exists in the dictionary. It’s all chestfeeding now. Many world powers are trying to stop me. They can’t. They’re too slow. I’m always two steps ahead.

I know this is going to make me sound pretensions but I have to get it off my chest. I feel an unimaginable rage when someone posts a photo and is like "this picture looks like a renaissance painting lol" when the photo clearly has the lighting, colors and composition of a baroque or romantic painting. There are differences in these styles and those differences are important and labeling every "classical" looking painting as renaissance is annoying and upsetting to me. And anytime I come across one of those posts I have to put down my phone and go take a walk because they make me so mad

In case you're curious here's what I mean.

Renaissance(distinct lines, stability and the individual man):

Baroque (bold, chaotic, dramatic):

Romantic(romanticize the simple hard working life):

Do you see the difference?

this post has re-wired my brain in the best way

Got a rare dopamine boost scrolling bluesky and seeing:

1) US politicians in deep red districts being confronted by their increasingly angry constituents.

2) Seeing the size and number of protests happening at tesla dealerships (scroll TeslaTakedown or check out Alex Winter’s feed)

3) Vermont showing up to scream at vance and ruin his ski holiday

People are out there being loud and getting louder

Protests are happening and they are getting bigger

Town halls are overflowing and when politicians run, people are starting to meet them at their offices or vacation spots

Let’s keep it going

For the love of God, sound on.

@vensre

Sometimes “Sound on” is a disappointment. This is not one of those times

Sometimes “Sound on” is

a disappointment. This is

not one of those times

Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.