Latest Posts by ibecreating-hopefully - Page 3

Y'all ever read something and it dont make sense and so you read it again and again and again and then suddenly you have to turn away and scream into the void cuz you're not understanding anything anymore and can actually feel your brain deteriorating.

Cuz same.

Link to donate to KhalsaAid

https://www.khalsaaid.org/donate

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It's 10:52 and I just woke up from a nap. Why am I napping at night, you may ask? It's cuz I'm a HEATHEN.

But no I been thinking. What the fuck is up with people going the Egyptians couldn't build the pyramids, they didn't know calculus. That's a thing right? Tell me if I'm wrong.

But I'm be operating under the presumptions that it is. HOW THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW IT'S NOT A THING. MOTHERFUCKING AUGUSTUS CAESER BURNT DOWN THE GREAT LIBRARY OF ALEXANDRIA. Also, like, if Isaac Newton discovered calculus in the 1600s, some 600 years after the dark ages, how come the Egpytians couldn't do it? They got together in 3100 BCE and production started in like 2500 BCE. Good timing to figure out what calculus is.

These are my thoughts in this fine evening. I must study now and hope to find sleep in a few hours. Good night.

I miss properly being in a fandom. Since I went to university, I been busy and havent had good time to invest in fandom and creating things and I hate that. My last exam's on Thursday and then I shall properly indoctrinate myself back into fandomhood.

Rating cat activities

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A lotta people tell me that they're sorry and that it's unfair and not right. It's a nice thing to say and I do appreciate it. Of course I do.

But sometimes I'm bitter and empty enough to think well what the fuck am I gonna do with that. That it's unfair changes nothing. It just is.

a_street_cat_named_benson on ig

Her name is Katalin Karikó. Hungarian. Daughter of a butcher. Her thesis work became the basis of the mRNA vaccine technology. Read the article here.

Just loved without pretense. Love without calculation. Love without a winner, love without a martyr, love like - I know you were hungry, I saved you half of my sandwich. Like - I know you hate silence, give me a second to get the music on. Like - move over, let's be alone together. Love like taking off your makeup. Like fresh cleaned sheets. Like: I see you and you see me.

His dinner was late.

puipui_the_bunny on ig

So, India is dying.

Look, I know a good number of you are from the US and things aren't amazing there either, but my country is literally on the brink of collapse. So I'd love it if we could talk about that for a minute.

If you can't do anything else, please just read and reblog.

A second COVID wave has taken out the healthcare system. There are no more hospital beds. There's an oxygen shortage. There's a critical vaccine shortage. The Central Government has thrown its hands up and is passing the baton to the State Governments to do what they can.

There are over 16 million covid cases. A record 330,000 new cases reported yesterday - comparable to the US at its peak. 187,000 dead as of today.

There is no plan.

Mass cremations are taking place. The cremation grounds are running day and night and they are short on wood. People are watching their loved ones die while waiting for a hospital bed, and then they're unable to give them the proper burial rights.

Hospitals are overwhelmed. Patients are being confined, two to a bed. They're the lucky ones.

We are on the verge of people dying in the streets.

This is the second-most populous country in the world. The largest democracy. A country that encapsulates over 15,000 years of recorded human history and has endured everything from famine to invasion to colonisation.

We might be at the end. This might be the thing that does us in.

People are dying.

People are dying.

People are dying and there is no plan.

More good news? Variants are popping up. A double mutation strain has shown up. It is resistant to current vaccines. This will not go away. This is the devastation they warned of when the anti-maskers were out protesting the minor inconvenience of covering their face in public.

My country is on the verge of an emergency state. Our government has failed us. This is as dire a situation as it ever could be.

Look. I don't do much with my life. I write fics, some of you have read them and that's pretty much it. I spend my days with my head in the clouds because that's where I like to be.

But two days ago, my grandmother tested positive, had to be taken to hospital and the ambulance caught fire.

She barely made it to the urgent care she needs.

So, here I am, using whatever meager platform I have to cobble this request together. Because I have to do something.

If you can, donate.

Or spread the word.

Help. Please.

Bunny eating a carrot

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speed

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understanding poetry is very simple. poems are good when they make you sit on your kitchen floor and scream

God yes, please, let's fucking talk about my greatest source of social isolation and ridicule.

thank GOD we are talking about racism towards asians now because as a dark skinned south asian woman my only representation in western media is 1) the smart brown girl studying to become a doctor or 2) the brown girl with overbearing parents who want her to get an arranged marriage. and don’t you dare tell me that this only happens in movies or shows because i cannot count the number of times that white people have come up to me and asked me what medical schools i want to apply to since i was literally 12 years old.

my culture has been stolen by white people trying to be woke while i was shamed for being south asian as a child. the golden milk you find on every white girl’s youtube channel now is haldi doodh, and my ancestors have been drinking it for thousands of years. the bindis on white girls’ foreheads as they go to coachella have served as a target for racists to attack south asian women. but when i drink haldi doodh or wear a bindi, i get stares from white people trying to dehumanize me by calling me barbaric or “backwards.”

racism towards south asians is still around and something that we NEED to keep talking about if we want to see change happen.

This SCREAMS Wei Wuxian, I dunno bout y'all

“He was a good man once, my grandfather. He took to necromancy, now he haunts my Castle. Excellent babysitter though!”

"Havent you ever worked anywhere before?"

PLEASE

Also fanfiction be a thing I write when I’m in the mood; hence how old this fucking is but it’s been a whole minute since I put my shit up on tumblr

I narrate shit I write now, whoot

Please read the tags for tw

I wanna make friends

I’m lonely and it’s pandemic and it’s been a long time since I’ve had internet friends so if you wanna talk to a nerdy ass bitch, hello, I’m available

Whatever That is Left

There is a deepening void somewhere in her chest.

It's inky darkness poisons her smile,

Breaking it down and reshaping it into something more cruel and lifeless.

But there is a shimmering layer of what is left of her.

It sits at the bottom of that hole, like a fine dusting of sugar on the best sweets.

Happy memories and love and ambition and joy lie somewhere in between,

It tries and tries to push her forward and just barely supplies her breaths.

But every time, without fail, she reaches deeper and deeper into herself to pull out what little is left,

And offers those splintering pieces to be soothe and provide.

They are rarely every returned in good health.

So often, she is left pillaged, burned, brutalized, and diminished

And ready to go again,

To scrape out whatever that is left,

And to display it with broken and bleeding hands to her world once more,

Until there is nothing but a pit where she had once glimmered gleefully and open to the world.

He Kissed Her Once

He kissed her once. It was by the sea, the smell of brine and watery decay thick in the air. The sun was high, its light made the water glitter prettily, its heat baked the seaweed and fish washed ashore. He thought, almost bitterly, that the beauty and repugnance of the moment was fitting. He wondered which one she would consider more.

She considered nothing at all. She was entirely startled by the manner of his embrace. It hurt in the way soft, sweet, and perfect things hurt; heartbreaking in its gentleness and care. She pulled away quickly, overwhelmed by the power she had so suddenly over her supposedly enigmatic, closed off friend.

He stumbled back, as if struck. His face burned and his hands shook. She stared hard at the ground and said nothing with a face flushed with embarrassment or heat or discomfort, neither of them could tell. Silence clung to them, heavy and chafing, until he walked away and disappeared somewhere among the ships.

She kept her gaze fixed on her hastily polished shoes where they were planted over both sand and grassed soil for a little while longer. Before too long, she walked away herself, without looking back or noticing the sharp, dark eyes tracking her.

For all they laughed, talked, and ran about, they never spoke again after that day by the sea.

Vengeance

Something ugly and cruel crawls out of her throat. It's slick and shiny with pointy, bloodthirsty edges. It crawls up and up and spews from her perfect, red-lipped mouth. And it never misses its target. There is never anything in her eyes Nothing in her face nor voice nor air but faint pleasure Nothing that acknowledges the spilling blood or the pain It is nothing but cool aloofness Searing the wound with a chilling, fiery vengeance

“...Who are you? Stanley? Even Stanley is more energetic than you. Stanley!”

“References to The Office are not keeping me awake. Sleep is sacred. Now fuck off.”

Writing Prompt #534

“I’m going back to bed.”

“You’ve only been awake for two hours?”

“Did I fucking stutter?”

IF YOURE EGYPTIAN AND LGBTQ+ GET OFF ANY QUEER DATING SITES, THE POLICE ARE TRACKING AND HUNTING PEOPLE DOWN AGAIN. DELETE YOUR ACCOUNTS.

writer problems: trying to figure out how many chapters you’re going to stall until An Event™