@januaryhoney // @naynawrites On Instagram // @sunflorally // @geloyconcepcion On Instagram // @lucidloving

EY ITS FINALS SEASON!

GOOD LUCK ON YOUR EXAMS!

GOOD LUCK ON YOUR ESSAYS!

GOOD LUCK ON YOUR PRESENTATIONS!

GOOD LUCK ON YOUR FINAL PROJECTS!

GOOD LUCK!!! YOU’VE MADE IT THIS FAR!!

and a gentle reminder to take breaks, and get a snack and some water. Don’t forget to take a moment to breathe.

and if you can, try to do something nice for yourself after its all over. No matter how it turns out, you struggled and you survived so you deserve something nice :)

ordered pizza from a small local place and they didnt actually cut it so i've chosen to revert to a wild animal and begin ripping it apart instead of just using a knife to portion slices

why does viva la vida by coldplay always go so hard. i hear those opening strings and instantly im a cynical and mournful king walking through his overthrown kingdom like oh shit I totally did used to rule the world!!! I used to roll the dice and feel the fear in my enemies’ eyes but now im literally sweeping the streets I used to own!!!! idk what it is about this song but for some reason i can’t explain

Ohara Koson (1877-1945) "Night-Heron with Raised Leg Perched on a Willow Branch,"

“Well, I have said this in the past, so I hope i don’t bore you by repeating it, but I think that we live or die under the tyranny of perfection. Socially, we are pushed towards being perfect. Physically, beautiful to conform to standards that are cruel and uncommon, to behave and lead our lives in a certain way, to demonstrate to the world that we are happy and healthy and all full of sunshine. We are told to always smile and never sweat, by multiple commercials of shampoo or beer. And I feel that the most achievable goal of our lives is to have the freedom that imperfection gives us. And there is no better patron saint of imperfection than a monster. We will try really hard to be angels, but I think that a balanced, sane life is to accept the monstrosity in ourselves and others as part of what being human is. Imperfection, the acceptance of imperfection, leads to tolerance and liberates us from social models that I find horrible and oppressive.”

— Guillermo del Toro, on why he has always been intrigued by monsters [x] (via radiophile)

This is actually so creative I can't even

Dandelion

You open your eyes and look around So bright and blue, the sky You’re in your mother’s embrace, so safe and sound Till the wind blows out and makes you fly

You fly around in the wind’s embrace You see a child running after you With giggles and a big grin on his face You’ve never felt so special, have you?

Suddenly, you’re grabbed by a hand, so wild And you close your eyes in fear But when you open your eyes you see a beautiful child And you know that it’s going to be safe here

The child smiles and whispers down in your ear And you feel so contented to hear his secret You feel happier when he says “you’re beautiful, oh dear” As he continues wishing for a little pet

He blows you away and the wind catches you  But now you finally understood That there’s nothing else that you want to do Because being a dandelion feels so good

i love how editing makes you notice tiny things you hadn't before

like i've watched this show too many time to count now but somehow i'm only now picking up on these bits from the charles vs night nurse scene in ep4

when the night nurse throws crystal away, niko immediately runs over and helps her up

then when they get back to the group, niko stands in front of her, mirroring charles standing in front of edwin

protective niko <333

I made a list. It's incomplete. Working title:

The pre-apocalyptic "omg moooom" phase:

- ww3 memes

- organising climate crisis protests at 14

- Not knowing the "before". Before the housing crisis. Before 9/11. Before Reagan laws. Before debt.

- no going out. No dates in cute restaurants. Do I look freaking rich.

- Amazon or Nestle owning everything you have ever had

- America just.... I'll just say America.

- Being 5th grade when Trump came into office

- No being able to turn off the ads. The manipulation. Ever. The deep psychology approach to making me despise myself since I learnt to decode information

- constant exposure to violence and suffering numbing us until we're called ignorant and heartless for not reacting

- social media algorithms specifically designed to crush and turn me into an addict. Since before I got my period.

- no more girlhood. You know how to pull an eyeliner and perfectly curl your hair in 7th grade or you die.

- no public spaces. There's Sephora, there are some chain restaurant. And if you feel like feeling a drop of relief you buy a Starbucks.

- Cyber. Bullying. Being on your own. Your parents have no goddamm clue.

Where's My Fucking Teenage Dream but it's real. Where's my fluffy 90s hair, my glitter hair combs, my shopping-as-a-hobby, my milkshakes, my prom? Where's my "my favourite colour is yellow?" Yellow like Butter Flowers, not like toxic waste. Can we talk about growing up in the years before a global system snaps? I was 7 when I read a picture book about Anne Frank. Who knew the early knowledge of how to spell 'death' would be so handy.

on endlings, and despair

Hey, y'all. It's...been a rough couple of weeks. So, I thought--better to light a single candle, right?

If you're familiar with wildlife conservation success stories, then you're likely also familiar with their exact polar opposite. The Northern White Rhino. Conservation's poster child for despair. Our greatest and most high-profile utter failure. We slaughtered them for wealth and status, and applied the brakes too slow. Changed course too late.

We poured everything we had into trying to save them, and we failed.

We lost them. They died. The last surviving male was named Sudan. He died in 2018, elderly and sick. His genetic material is preserved, along with frozen semen from other long-dead males, but only as an exercise in futility. Only two females survive--a mother and daughter, Najin and Fatu.

Both of them are infertile. They still live; but the Northern White Rhinoceros is extinct. Gone forever.

In 2023, an experimental procedure was attempted, a hail-mary desperation play to extract healthy eggs from the surviving females.

It worked.

The extracted eggs were flown to a genetics lab, and artificially fertilized using the sperm of lost Northern males. The frozen semen that we kept, all this time, even after we knew that the only living females were incapable of becoming pregnant.

It worked.

Thirty northern white rhino embryos were created and cryogenically preserved, but with no ability to do anything with them, it was a thin hope at best. In 2024, for the first time, an extremely experimental IVF treatment was attempted on a SOUTHERN white rhino--a related subspecies.

It worked.

The embryo transplanted as part of the experiment had no northern blood--but the pregnancy took. The surgery was safe for the mother. The fetus was healthy. The procedure is viable. Surrogate Southern candidates have already been identified to carry the Northern embryos. Rhinoceros pregnancies are sixteen months long, and the implantation hasn't happened yet. It will take time, before we know. Despair is fast and loud. Hope is slower, softer. Stronger, in the end.

The first round may not take. We'll learn from it. It's what we do. We'll try again. Do better, the next time. Fail again, maybe. Learn more. Try harder.

This will not save the species. Not overnight. The numbers will be very low, with no genetic diversity to speak of. It's a holding action, nothing more.

Nothing less.

One generation won't save a species. But even a single calf will buy us time. Not quite gone, not yet. One more generation. One more endling. One more chance. And if we seize it, we might just get another after that. We're getting damn good at gene editing. At stem-cell research. In the length of a single rhino lifetime, we'll get even better.

For decades, we have been in a holding action with no hope in sight. Researchers, geneticists, environmentalists, wildlife rehabbers. Dedicated and heroic Kenyan rangers have kept the last surviving NWRs under 24/7 armed guard, line-of-sight, eyes-on, never resting, never relaxing their guard. Knowing, all the while, that their vigilance was for nothing. Would save nothing. This is a dead species--an elderly male, two females so closely related that their offspring couldn't interbreed even if they could produce any--and they can't.

Northern white rhino conservation was the most devastatingly hopeless cause in the world.

Two years from now, that dead species may welcome a whole new generation.

It's a holding action, just a holding action, but not "just". There is a monument, at the Ol Pejeta Conservancy, where the last white rhinos have lived and will die. It was created at the point where we knew--not believed, knew--that the species was past all hope. It memorializes, by name there were so few, the last of the northern white rhinos. Most of the markers have brief descriptions--where the endling rhino lived, how it was rescued, how it died.

One marker bears only these words: SUDAN | Last male Northern White Rhino.

If even a single surrogate someday bears a son, we have erased the writing on that plaque forever.

All we can manage is a holding action? Then we hold. We hold hard and fast and long, use our fingernails if we have to. But hold. Even and perhaps especially when we are past all hope.

We never know what miracle we might be buying time for.