So I May Read.

"Back in My Day..."; Jealousy of Your Child's Privilege (24/08/24) By Jude Ní Riain

It's a common thing for them to say,

"Oh well, back in my day..."

As they rattle on about their past,

Saying thinks in hopes you act a ghast.

And by itself this would be grand.

If they didn't say it after you show your hand.

After you tell them of your day, joys or pain

On your parade they have to rain.

"At least your life isnt like before,

You see, now that life was a chore.

Compared to us you get to have life in ease

And get to do whatever you please."

This lack of sympathy makes them seem jealous.

Jealous of their child's privileges I guess.

I don't get why they aren't proud

Of the life for their child that they've allowed.

“Some of you say, “Joy is greater than sorrow,” and others say, “Nay, sorrow is the greater.”

But I say unto you, they are inseparable.

Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.”

― Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet

I was rambling on the issue of museums and human remains and how certain populations are more likely to have their bodies put on display to be gawked at and then went "well I guess the Pompeii casts were of Europeans. there are bones in there right?" and Googled it to make sure, at which point I confirmed that yes there are bones in there, but more interestingly DNA testing revealed that a cast of an adult holding a child everyone assumed was a mother and child were, in fact, a man and a kid entirely unrelated to him. Honestly that's more moving to me. Maybe they were connected in a way other than blood, but maybe a stranger saw a child when the world was ending and thought the one thing he could do was hold them.

Found this very funny

This scene happens with literally 0 context or build up whatsoever

Birdflash & Protective Damian Commission

on my laptop straight up 'writing my wip" and by "my wip", haha, well. lets justr say. scrolling on tumblr.

Yippee another joint poem with Autumn :D WE KNOW ITS LIKE EDGELORD WORTHY AND NOT GREAT BUT LIKE SEE THE VISION 😭

Canvas

We are artists; we bleed our pain on paper

With our bones as tools, our sculptures we taper

Gouging at ourselves with each new gentle stroke we create, not resting until our darkest thoughts we’re able to articulate

We’re the vessel that brings to life our muse

That, we cannot choose

Art is as addicting as booze, disgusting, but a habit

And alike, our fate is definite

Forever doomed to be societies deficit

(Teehee felt silly)

Listen... All I know is that the kids I babysit were singing that one Gummy Bear song and next thing I knew my brain made a parody