something bad happened to you, and you died, and you came back wrong.
not wrong all the way. the little ways. you forget important dates, stopped going out with friends. it's harder to make you smile. you're apathetic towards things you used to love, afraid of places you used to go to cheer up. quieter. flinching. different.
you came back for love. you're still here for love. what pulled you back was a brightness so loud that even death couldn't outshout it. death heard the call and smiled at you and said okay. go home. somebody is waiting for you.
but you came back different. like lot's wife; you've turned into salt. you used to chirp through life in hops and skips; but now you lose skin just standing up. you have to move slower, skimming across this world without-touching-it. most things feel dull - until they're suddenly all-too-much. life, and being alive just rushes up and over you and you get hopelessly crushed.
you try to explain it to them: it is ugly, but this is what you are, now. the huge golden hoop of your halo now a little bronze ring. you are still watering your plants and wearing the same clothes. after all, you worked hard to come home. this life; so odd and off-color, now that you are wrong.
but they waited for you - it's just that they wanted the "you" that happened before this. the "you" that could sing in the show and hug people tight and look at a blade without breaking down to cry. the you with a smile in pictures. god, holyshit, it's like looking at a completely different person, isn't it. that other-you; the one they actually wanted.
you are the consolation prize. you are the body that forgot the ghost. you are the memory of the bad thing, and the death after; like you are wearing that memory as a banner. you are a fragment, an assembly. simulacrum. you don't make eye contact in mirrors, afraid the light will glance off and your true nature will flash back at you.
you hear them talk about it in their hushed, desperate whispers. sometimes they even admit it to your face; harsh and violent, acid thrown at christmas dinner. god, can you just fucking be normal again. you do not remember what normal is. you had to climb so far to get back here; you are far too exhausted. you want to open the glass door of your heart and show all the gears. can you help resolve whatever got messed up?
you try so, so hard. you came back for them. because you believed they would love you, even when you were so horribly broken. because you believed they would be patient. because you believed unconditional meant "without exception." you cannot do things the same way. you just get tired too quickly these days.
you want to put them on a couch and pour them the tea with hands that shake more than they remember. you want to line them up and draw them a map of where you have had to wander. you want to show every bruise in a backsplash; the little helpless ant of your soul carrying all that weight, over and over. you want to say: yes! it is different! but i did it for love!
you want to say: "i'm not the same, but i'm yours and i'm here. can that be enough?"
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Imagine you live in pelican town.
The new farmer has been here a couple weeks now and seems to be settling in, except... He's picking the weirdest friend choices. Like sure it's not weird to befriend the local fisherman, especially when he has an interest in fishing himself, but you're pretty sure you've seen him rooting through the Saloon's garbage with the local homeless man. As well, he keeps harassing the poor guy who works at Joja even though you KNOW he doesn't want to be friends with him.
And since you're on the topic of weirdness, isn't it odd he seemingly runs everywhere at a full sprint? Or just... Eats entire raw fish while fishing for "energy reasons"...
...
Despite all that, it's too early to call him off putting or anything... He has been engaging in town traditions, and he's started helping out with the old community centre. He's probably like the rest of you. Someone with a few quirks, that will fit in with the valley great!
Surely he can't get any weirder... Right?
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I also found a new way to read Madoka after my latest rewatch. The friend I was showing it to pointed out that even the simplest of actions are super exaggerated and I thought “huh, they usually do that in stage plays when so the audience in the back can see better” ex:
Then I realized: this is on purpose. The way the whole story is told is privy to a stage play.
The very first things that happen are the curtains opening and Madoka entering centre stage.
The sets, too. Ik the chairs are symbolic but it also is very much spread out like it’s on a stage
Especially the shadow play with Kyubey, it’s a common thing utilized in stage plays.
Most of all, Walpurgisnacht is LITERALLY THE STAGE-CONSTRUCTING WITCH.
Walpy puts the play in action by killing Madoka and Mami in the first timeline. From then on, Homura is forced to act out the same play over and over again helplessly for times lines and time lines. Her lines become scripted, she’s become an actor and in the theatre witches play.
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I'm sorry you're telling me there was a Power Rangers show set in a gritty post-apocalyptic world ravaged by murderous machines? The military was a prominent part of the story? They used the Orange Filter? You're telling me the Sentai show they chose to take footage from was the silly-as-fuck Go-Onger???? The one where the villains were the literal CEOs of pollution???????
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Analia the Bee
I made this after finding a bee that I thought was dead, but was actually still alive, barely.
I don't usually name my specimens, but I asked my best friend if she wanted a bee named after her and she said "yes" (btw her name is pronounced "ah-nah-LEE-ah", not "an-NAH-lia").
Of all the animals I've found, this one made me the saddest.
Here are some pictures of the bee right after I found it and thought it was dead:
And here are some pictures I took of it today:
Rest In Peace, small bee friend.
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Learning things about international queerness and queerness in "non-western" cultures is so important and so amazing. Queer people are everywhere and, throughout history, have made their mark on the places and cultures they lived in. They are vital members of humanity, and we wouldn't be where we are today without them
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the "oooh hot vampire" to "Astarion fan" to "Wyllstarion shipper" to "BLOODPACT FOR FUCKING LIFE" to "Yeah, I like Wyll" to "I really like Wyll" to "screaming crying throwing up frothing at mouth about The Blade of Frontiers", Pride of the Gate, Grand Duke's Son Wyll (With a "y") Ravenguard" pipeline is very real and for me took all the time of about two weeks to complete. Embrace it. Astarion fans, it's coming for you next.
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