Well I Don’t Love This.

i really like just knowing things. learning new things is great of course but it truly does hit differently when you see a painting and know which era it's from and why it was painted in that way particular and how the artist was influenced by their time. it's nice just knowing how an author grew up and how that might have influenced their work. it is a good feeling

Honestly something that bothers me more than most things is having my compassion mistaken for naivety.

I know that another fish might eat this bullfrog right after I spend months rehabilitating it.

I know that turning a beetle back onto its legs won’t save it from falling over again when I walk away.

I know that there is no cosmic reward waiting for my soul based on how many worms I pick off a hot sidewalk to put into the mud, or how many times I’ve helped a a raccoon climb out of a too-deep trashcan. 

I know things suffer, and things struggle, and things die uselessly all day long. I’m young and idealistic, but I’m not literally a child. I would never judge another person for walking by an injured bird, for ignoring a worm, or for not really caring about the fate of a frog in a pond full of, y’know, plenty of other frogs.

There is nothing wrong with that.

But I cannot cannot cannot look at something struggling and ignore it if I may have the power to help.

There is so much bad stuff in this world so far beyond my control, that I take comfort in the smallest, most thankless tasks. It’s a relief to say “I can help you in this moment,” even though they don’t understand.

I don’t need a devil’s advocate to tell me another fish probably ate that frog when I let it go, or that the raccoon probably ended up trapped in another dumpster the next night.

I know!!!! I know!!!!!!! But today I had the power to help! So I did! And it made me happy!

So just leave me alone alright thank u!!!!

TIL

Anne Bancroft was happily married to Mel Brooks from 1964 until her passing in 2005.

and there is something wonderful about the sexiest woman in the history of American film being in love with the funniest man in the history of American film.

it's just so charming.

Life is right now. While you’re waiting for your dream job, your future spouse, your goal weight, a new home, a change in appearance. Life is happening while you are working on mastering a skill, being in the unknown, not knowing which way to go, feeling stuck. Most of life happens in the waiting. Not in the achievements or successes which are nothing but milestones. Don’t wish the time you have away waiting for something that lives in the future. Look around. What does today offer that you might not want to miss?

What do the Gods care. They breathe aether not air. They drink ambrosia not water. Their blood is ichor and immortal whilst ours is rusting, slow rotting iron. But here’s what they do not want you to know. Without our prayers and tributes, their mighty Olympus turns into just another ruin. Their aether grows polluted with unrest and darkness. Their ambrosia bitters and their immortality begins to feel like a burden. Ask a God to name his weaknesses. If he is honest, he will tell you they wear mortal skin and go by names like yours.

Nikita Gill, Even The Gods Have Weaknesses

it strikes me as somewhat uncomfortable that so many people focus on asian stories only after the events of the past couple of days. people dm me for the first time in months and asian creators get spotlighted (which is lovely), and yet it feels so performative. why? because so many of these ppl dming me and whatnot have never been interested in interacting diverse content or speaking out about the stories of poc—it’s like they’re doing this to solely gain brownie points. in a few months’ time, they won’t be doing all this anymore. they’ll go back to their silence, to not caring about asian creators. that’s what makes it performative. the stories of asian people shouldn’t be heard and spread only when they’ve been murdered and/or when their pain finally makes it onto news headlines.

Me, wearing a blanket as a cloak, stirring my mac'n'cheese in a dimly lit room: potion