So We All Know That Tumblr Is US-centric. But To What Degree? (and Can We Skew The Results Of This Poll

Did not even know this was happening, good to know

hey fellow Europeans (EU), just a friendly and mildly concerned reminder that in less than a month, the European elections are taking place. it's an election with a historically low turnout, but one that is just as important as any other, if not more. the composition of the EU parliament determines the political direction of the EU, and has an impact on all 27 countries through directives and regulations that get voted.

we cannot let far right extremist parties get an even bigger stronghold there than they already do. sadly, there are very significant threats of exactly that happening from many countries.

so please, if you are an EU citizen living in the EU and are of voting age, check the modalities to vote in your country of residence, and make sure to make your voice heard.

We should normalize drinking just straight up Balsamic Vinegar

I am good. I am loved.

@/folkoftheshelf on Twitter has made a thread of fundraising links for Gazans. I’ve transferred the links here, please boost them as the conflict is worsening:

Help Ahmad Hassan and his family escape Gaza

Help Halla Morshed’d family escape Gaza

Help Dr. Yousef Alsweisi and his family escape Gaza

Evacuate Sohad’s family out of Gaza

Help Donia Tanani and her family escape Gaza (they are close to reaching their goal!!)

Help Zinh and her family escape Gaza (they are close to reaching their goal!!)

Help this Gazan family rebuild their lives (they are not close to their goal as of writing)

Help the Zack Family

Help Hala Jad and her family (they are at a 1/3 of their goal)

Help Walid and his family escape Gaza (they are close to reaching their goal!!)

Help Mariam Radi and her family (as of right now they are not close to reaching their goal)

Help Maha Abu Shammala evacuate the family from Gaza (they haven't met their goal as of writing)

Help Ronza Alaa and her family (they haven't met their goal as of writing)

Help Noor and her family evacuate to safety (they haven't met their goal as of writing)

Help Manar Abuqata get his family out of Gaza (goal hasn't been met as of writing)

Help Farah save her family

Help Ahmad’s family escape from Gaza to Egypt

Help evacuate Mohammed Harara’s family out of Gaza (they are halfway through their goal!!)

Help Dana and her family escape (they have almost met their goal!!)

Help Anas’ family escape from Gaza (goal has not been met as of writing, note that the money is in krona, 1 usd=11 krona)

Help Ibrahem Ra’fat Daher and his family evacuate Gaza

Help Hakam Albalawi save his family (goal had not been met as of writing)

Help Tabseem AbuJamie’s family evacuate (goal hasn't been met and only has two donations as of writing)

Rafah Masterpost

Parasite and Girl

How to show emotions

Part VII

How to show pride

standing tall

expanded posture, opening of the torso

lifted chin, head held high

big and confident smile

looking around to see if people recognize and admire what they are proud of

How to show enthusiasm

big smile and laughter

wide radiant eyes

raised eyebrows

jumping up and down or bouncing

clapping hands

big hand gestures

loud and high pitched voice

speaking quickly

How to show anxiety

not holding/breaking eye contact

fidgeting

heavy breathing

twitching in their face

often a blank stare or looking away

rigid posture

sweaty palms

bouncing their knees

rubbing palms against each other or clothing

How to show playfulness

laughing

giggling

grinning

using a playful tone

making a silly face

touching the other person teasingly

e.g. tickling, nudging, bumping into them

How to show being offended

stiffening up

hard line around the lips

frozen stare

narrowing of the eyes

Part I + Part II + Part III + Part IV + Part V + Part VI

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! And check out my Instagram! 🥰

Oh, to be Thanatos. You are tied to the House you were born in, title already in your hands, godhood all ready to shape you, with the starry sky of your mother's eyes holding you close. You don't really like the noise of the busy souls that crowd the hall, it's not that you didn't enjoy being a child, but the announcement of the Gentle Death was too big that your little bones had to learn how to carry it for your mother, and for the House.

And then, he is born. He is tiny, so so tiny. And he is bright and he is fire and he burns. He laughs and it echoes all throughout the house, running around with you hand in hand, a complicit smile on your face when he touched things he shouldn't, or toed the rules clumsily, falling headfirst into them. He always got on his feet, brushed the pain off his knees and smiled and giggled for you.

He used to pluck leaves off his laurels and give them to you, hide in obvious places in such a way it had to be on purpose. He always wanted to find you, and to be found. He would stand at every corner of the House of Hades, awaiting the toll of your bells. He liked your hair, and your eyes, and your smile. You don't understand how every strand of his being can radiate warmth.

You are being pulled, always. By him, and by what you must do. Cries and dying breaths, and blood of thousands of men, praying for someone to take them to a good place. Praying for one second more. And then, two seconds, for one hour. You never really understood, life can only last so much. They have to let it go, traverse the waters, so other people can see the sun, the night.

They won't stop existing. Because after the crossing of the river there are other places they can go to. Places where higher forces tell them they belong to. Just like you. Everything born in this house is tied to it. To its walls and ceilings. No one ever goes so far. No one ever leaves forever.

Except her, of course. But it's not for you to presume, whether she left because she belonged too much, or if she didn't. Neither or both, it doesn't really matter right now.

You grow up, and so does he. He is always fluttering around, the House bends at his feet. He stares bored at his papers. Spars and he looks like he is soaring with a sword in his hand. He loves. So much. So much it hurts you. It's written across his face, lettering all around his body.

You however, choke with your own thoughts, too many to ever stop and contemplate, because when you think about him there is always a glowing tangle of things you want to say, but you can never. He looks, like he knows what you want to say, but you feel like you're pushing yourself from him, when you swallow the sentences to the pit of your stomach.

They will always come back though. Acidic and a bad aftertaste of loneliness and regret, you mull their bitter ends and chew them as you wander the upper land, far away so he cannot read you. Because he is an all consuming presence, and even far away, he is around you. The bending flowers at the river. When the clouds embrace the sun, you couldn't help but think of holding him like that, too. Covering him for a moment, draping him with your figure, a breath near his own.

But that's too much. Too much. You can't, you are not there, and the war unfolding just makes you longer for him more. For the House and your mother, and the cold, gold pillars.

And then he leaves. He fucking leaves. You have to pull Hypnos's teeth and stare at your mother until she raises a brow, still shielding him. How can he go? Why would he leave? He was born here, he was here all the time. Your world, the world you love is down here, why would he discard it so easily as well?

The House is in shambles, and the steps close to the river are never fully clean. Blurred footprints that leave a messy trail.

You find him. Because how could you not? Why would you not? You have to shake him awake, remind him that his life is down here, very deeply burrowed in this realm. That upstairs and above there's nothing for them, nothing for you or him. That a search for the silhouette of a mother gone is absurd. That dying and waking, and dying and waking will drive him inside. Making you insane as well. The river Lethe is a few steps ahead, and you feel like drinking all of it so you can forget how it feels having him cut his way out of your chest. Out of your heart.

You just don't get it. Maybe you never did. Maybe you should've told him all those things that you left up there, maybe that's why he is leaving. Or maybe, he was never supposed to be known by you. Maybe he was being lended to you, and now the world wants him back.

Or maybe he just doesn't get it. Swan diving directly to the pits of seething heat, and cooling swords. To the gritty of the plagues, just to be stopped by a spear. A spear all of you know.

And he finds her. And you still don't get it. You say things that freeze his face; and he retorts back with a crackle of a flame. You used to blend so well together. Now you can't even remember how to talk to him.

It comes slowly, in long, suffering waves. He is not leaving. Just searching. Maybe because you never had to, you never understood. Maybe it's not that people are made for places; but they carve their own shapes into them. Maybe he just had to figure out the knife or his shape. But he's not leaving, he would never leave you, he says.

He would always come back and hold his breath for the toll of your bells, so you can both learn how you can blend once again, how it would feel to hold Zagreus with no choked words. Or no scathing heart breaks, left uncompleted all across the Underworld, for no one to find them, or run into them.

You never really liked the sun. But if it means that Zagreus brings back its light everytime it returns, as if he stole it or took a piece of it, to bring alight everything else; then, you wouldn't mind its warmth for a while. Life and Death, one and the same.

Thanatos and Zagreus, forevermore.

I Saw the TV Glow(2024) dir. Jane Schoenbrun // An Apartment on Uranus by Paul B. Preciado

In the future, children will think our ways are strange. "Why do old people always grow so much milkweed in their gardens?" they'll say. "Why do old people always write down when the first bees and butterflies show up? Why do old people hate lawn grass so much? Why do old people like to sit outside and watch bees?"

We will try to explain to them that when we were young, most people's yards were almost entirely short grass with barely any flowers at all, and it was so commonplace to spray poisons to kill insects and weeds that it was feared monarch butterflies and American bumblebees would soon go extinct. We will show them pictures of sidewalks, shops, and houses surrounded by empty grass without any flowers or vegetables and they will stare at them like we stared at pictures of grimy children working in coal mines

This is such a cool offer for a great cause

Hey everyone, please consider buying the 2024 itch.io Palestinian Relief Bundle- it's 373 games, game-making assets, tabletop roleplaying games, zines, and comics for a minimum of just 8 USD! They have a goal of 100,000 USD, and as of the time I'm writing this post, they have 8 more days to reach it.

Link will be in the reblog!