𝓌𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝓀𝒾𝓃𝒸𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒾𝓅𝓈

the signs as aesthetics

aries - dirty high tops, varsity jackets, sunrises, graffiti, pins and patches, lightning, live concerts, wide grins, lollipops, skinny jeans, matches, the moment before the drop on a roller coaster

taurus - flower crowns, oversized sweaters, mom jeans, mugs, leather, log fires, sunlight peeking through the window, leaves, succulents, journals, sleeping in on the weekends, messy buns

gemini - bright eyes, bicycles, overalls, new friends, art museums, iced coffee, infectious laughter, pastel colors, bubblegum, new books, speakers, yellow highlighter, singing in the shower

cancer - the beach, hair blowing in the wind, bath bombs, conch shells, balloons, the moon, soft serve, the sound of raindrops against the window, knee high socks, running barefoot, inspirational quotes

leo - gold stars, sparklers, mascara, romantic poetry, mirrors, sunflowers, running through a meadow, glitter, fairy lights, hot baths, monarch butterflies, sunny days, bright eyeshadow

virgo - french braids, calligraphy, bookstores, collared shirts, to-do lists, teacups, watercolors, mason jars, dainty hands, cuffed pants, fresh linens, classic literature, potted plants, bullet journals, clear aviators

libra - cotton candy clouds, bubble baths, cherry blossoms, lace, lip gloss, ferris wheels, gentle eyes, holding hands, pink lemonade, candy hearts, novels, birds chirping, strawberries, vintage cars

scorpio - sunsets, midnight conversations, driving on an empty highway, listening to the radio, rainy days, crescent moon, tv static, all-nighters, white sheets, the ocean

sagittarius - road trips, beanies, doodling, maps, getting lost, stargazing, forests, fireflies, polaroids, cameras, paint-stained jeans, light bulbs, messy ponytails, traveling the world

capricorn - architecture, silhouettes, sheet music, mountains, old books, coffee shops, high ceilings, history museums, skylines, nude lipstick, spiral staircases, neat handwriting, cobblestone

aquarius - combat boots, neon signs, geodes, starry skies, pool water, song lyrics, bulky headphones, space, telescopes, multi-colored fairy lights, smoke, activism, 24-hour gas stations, dyed hair

pisces - daydreaming, umbrellas, finger paint, sketchbooks, getting lost in your thoughts, ice cream trucks, earphones, leggings, sweatshirts, paint chips, swing sets, daisies, milkshakes, bubbles, scented candles

INFERNO

I really like this InuKag demon version from my Halloween piece. ^^

I’m really obsessed with the idea of worldbuilding that refuses to clarify its relationship to reality

When we read books we instinctively try to categorize books based on the kind of book they are, oh this is fantasy, post-apocalyptic, etc. and we try to find out things and clarify what kind of world it is and whether or not the things in it are make believe and how make believe they are.

So what if I...Messed with that process?

For instance. A book is set in Ohio. We mention the names of cities in Ohio and pieces of Ohio’s history and famous landmarks in Ohio and it’s incredibly well researched, even down to the names of museums in Cincinnati or something. We’re talking very firmly established in the facts of a place. It’s kind of an eerie book and in some ways the setting seems weird or cloudy or dreamy but it seems grounded in just the amount of facts that are in it about the setting.

There are little factoids dropped here and there. At first very boring ones. Something that happened at an Ohio water treatment plant in 1995. What it takes to serve on a jury in Ohio. Ohio laws about spraying pesticides on corn. Facts about corn itself. Probably one of those cutesy little facts about weird local laws.

They start to get...stranger. The little bits of worldbuilding. Did you know that Ohio has had more nuclear power plant accidents than any other state? In this small town in Ohio, you used to need a license to perform an exorcism! This charming small town’s mayor is a ghost. In Ohio, it is legal for doctors to draw more of your blood than they need to sell to third parties. There are no Dollar Tree’s in Ohio. (Have you ever seen a Dollar Tree in Ohio? Are you sure?)

At some point the reader catches onto something that is clearly not right. Maybe the book states at some point that Indiana is to the east of Ohio instead of the west. This is clearly a mistake, and they move on.

Some things about the everyday realities of the setting seem peculiar. There seem to be quite a bit of packs of wild dogs about, and mold seems to grow a lot quicker. Grass is described very strangely—a shade of green that isn’t very characteristic of grass. There seem to be a lot of cults, and there are a lot of empty lots in town enclosed with razor wire for no apparent reason. Sometimes a character’s hands grow suddenly cold, and they panic and hasten inside. Frostbite? Is it the climate? Why does the author write that way?

At some point, though, it becomes clear that the author is fictionalizing a bit. It may certainly be the case that nuclear accidents have occurred in Ohio more than any other state, but the tale of how deer from that area glow in low light is probably made up. And though that famous televangelist existed and it seems plausible enough that he owned tigers, like some kind of janky drug dealer would purchase, it seems implausible that he regularly fed people to them.

As the story continues, more and more facts seem a little off, though. The spatial relationship of Ohio to its surrounding states, and the shape that Ohio is (it’s described at one point as having a panhandle, and as bordering East Tennessee) seems to make less and less sense. The wild dogs are massive, and have smoldering eyes like hellhounds. One nuclear disaster apparently wiped out a full sixth of Ohio’s population. The deer, plagued with cancer from the radiation, have turned carnivores. The wild horses run under a red sky—the sky is always described as red. The original capital of Ohio is lost, its stones dashed down in the war that made its citizens turn to cannibalism. The invasive plants of Ohio can pry open windows, and once choked a woman in her sleep. The people of Ohio dream more frequently of birds of prey gouging out their eyes than people in any other state. There are plagues of rats in Ohio that sometimes devastate towns. In Ohio, unexplained disappearances are rarely investigated. There are eagles in Ohio—their wings blot out the sun. Ohio briefly seceded from the Union in 1922, and there are those that still believe in the Free People’s Empire of Ohio. Ohio shares a border with Arizona. Ohio has a coastline on the edge of a dark and perpetually cold sea.

It becomes abundantly clear that this is not Ohio. It is something else, named Ohio and superficially wearing Ohio as a skin, but it is not Ohio. And looking back, it is hard to tell when it stopped being Ohio. When it stopped being just quirky Americana and an eerie mood and started being...this. Small details were off early on, but these were not noticed, because they seemed so normal. The sky was always described as red, but that was because it was supposed to be sunset...right?

The governor of Ohio has been struck down. All bow before the God-Emperor of Ohio. The black wolves of Hell await those who will not bow with their teeth.

shakarian roleplaying

based on this vine

I’m not sorry.

I hate that capitalistic image of woman who is thriving is a woman who “gets to” endlessly indulge in her appearance, have expensive clothes and makeup and spend her time in salons and she still doesn’t eat a lot or want anything but to be desirable, because this is the worst nightmare scenario. To be so completely distanced from your own humanity and desires, you invest all your time and resources to reducing yourself into a male fantasy which only gets you worthless male attention.

When I imagine women thriving, I see them owning the entire world, I see them powerful and strong, climbing and jumping and laughing, I see them looking exactly as they do, none of them even imagining to change something on their bodies. They’re smug and filled with desires and they chase them without guilt or shame, they eat whatever they want without a second thought that it might make them less valuable in anyone’s eyes. They don’t waste their time on anyone, they have their own property and community, they owe nothing to anyone, they don’t need to appease anyone, nor are they afraid of anyone. They don’t need to become desirable, they know they’re wanted and desired by default, just by being alive, just by existing. They love and get loved in return, but they have places their heart feels content and full even when out of love. They bow down to no one. They don’t know what makeup is. They’re wild and uncontained. They create their own living space and their own environment. They’re adored and respected regardless of their age. They take credit for everything they do and wear it with pride.

If the idea of women thriving isn’t filled with at least this much freedom, power and love, it’s not worth my time.

Making a Villain Richard III by William Shakespeare Look What You Made Me Do by Taylor Swift Shadow and Bone by Leigh Bardugo Tangled (2010) screenplay by Dan Fogelman No Good Deed (from Wicked the Musical) by Stephen Schwartz Untitled Poetry by Stephanie Bennett-Henry mad woman by Taylor Swift

okay so I got super inspired by this really beautiful ethereal remix of claire de lune and I’m on the hunt to find similar songs to put on a playlist.

So, does anyone have any song suggestions that embody the feeling of “I just dissociated so hard I astral projected into the tenth dimension to float amongst the stars on the outskirts of the galaxy, but I feel curiously warm and whole and I know I don’t have to feel afraid or alone”?

Like an embodiment of this picture

LET’S GROOVE! an ode to unsettling dance scenes

I don’t like the phrase “a cry for help”. I just don’t like how it sounds. When someone says to me, “I’m thinking about suicide, I have a plan; I just need a reason not to do it”. The last thing I see is helplessness. I think your depression has been beating you up for years. It’s called you ugly, and stupid, and pathetic and a failure. For so long that you’ve forgotten that it’s wrong. You don’t see any good in yourself, and you don’t have any hope. But still, here you are. You’ve come over to me, banged on my door and said “hey! Staying alive is really hard right now! Just give me something to fight with! I don’t care if it’s a stick! Give me a stick and I can stay alive!” How is that helpless? I think it’s incredible. You’re like a marine, trapped for years behind enemy lines, your gun has been taken away, you’re out of ammo, you’re malnourished and you’ve probably caught some kind of jungle virus that’s making you hallucinate giant spiders. And you’re still just going “give me a stick. I’m not dying out here”. “A cry for help” make it sound like I’m supposed to take pity on you, but you don’t need my pity. This isn’t pathetic. This is the will to survive. This is how humans lived long enough to become the dominant species. With NO hope, running on NOTHING, you’re ready to cut through a hundred miles of hostile jungle with nothing but a stick, if that’s what it takes to get to safety. All I’m doing is handing out sticks. You’re the one staying alive.

From a poster in a therapists waiting room (via darkkiss0fdeath)