I've definitely got something going on.
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honestly i am such a sucker for machines being cared for. like? please be gentle. i am not like you. this is my body, please be careful. i do not think like you. i do not work like you, or breathe like you. please be kind. please act kindly. you have me in your hands so please, please show mercy. i was made for a purpose, but that purpose was never intimacy. please show me what this is
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big big big fan of found family relationships with shithead sibling dynamics
sure, yeah, they had no one in the world until they found each other, and they will fight tooth and nail for each other's safety, but they will also eat the last of the other's cereal and put the box back in the cabinet or tell the other's significant other every embarrassing story about them or greet each other by means of full body tackle and chokehold
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i was just talking about this after being wrecked by the discovery that the little elf-goblin fellows my parents/family used to tell me warnings and stories about as a little kid are regionally specific, and that you can trace people's geographic origins by what word they use for "little spirit-fellows who live in your house". no matter what you call them (domovoi, kobolde, brownies, so on); for purposes of this post henceforth "little guys"
i think one of the things that i find frustrating about like, idk, modern animist revivalist movements is that very few of them ime spend a lot of time romanticising and spiritualizing human habitation. obviously, we as a culture need to think more about protecting and defending nature/the earth/so on, but like.
if you don't have room in your heart for making up a little guy who lives in the water heater, or who squats under your stove and makes it run 15 degrees off the programmed temperature, and thinking of him with the same kind of respect/affection as you do for the spirits (or whatever) of the wildlife you interact with like.
genuinely: what are you even doing. you are removing a source of richness and fun and whimsy from your life! like, pip @creekfiend made up the concept of "little guys who live in an airport (and are the reason it's so shitty to be in an airport)" and i already like airports like 30% more just knowing it's the little airport inconvenience guys doing that.
more importantly, like. genuinely: interrogate what parts of the world seem ~rich with spiritual meaning~ to you. what parts of the world are "wild"? what does that make the rest of the world - a chore? a burden? who has to carry that burden?
we're never going to like, "return to nature", because that's nothing and the concept of untouched nature is also nothing; we're always going to have some sort of human habitation and interaction and cultivation with nature. if you can't extend grace and whimsy and genuine and sincere meaning to human habitation, including its inconveniences and annoyances, you are making your own lived experience duller!
notably, most of these kinds of little-guy-spirits historically exist in the parts of human habitation that are partially abandoned, partially removed: haylofts, inside the walls, under the house, in the bathhouse, behind the furnace... i've been thinking a lot about urban wildlife lately, and the animals who make space for themselves in and around human habitation. the "natural" and the "wild" persist inside and around the edges of the "tame" and always, always have. if you have a crawlspace, there's a little spirit who lives there and he's the reason the dryer always eats your socks.
LIVE WHIMSICALLY.
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Tried to tip a tumblr blog at 1am and it was such a suspicious transaction it immediately put a full fraud freeze on my account
Fortunately, banks no longer just ask 'did you make that transaction' they want to make sure you weren't scammed into making that transaction and 5mins after their call will give away all your money anyway.
This is an honest to goodness life saving movement and I cannot be happier banks are adopting it
Unfortunately, it meant I had to have the most embarrassing financial call of my life
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Me: Ah yeah I was just trying to tip a tumblr blog
Cash: right and were you directed there by a Facebook link? An Instagram advert?
Me: no I was just on tumblr...on purpose
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Caah: and this person asked you for money?
Me: oh no they just had a funny story, which happened to be about money and I thought, "wouldn't it be funny if I tipped them"
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Me: * covering a reblog by reblog update on the adventures my mutual was having *
Cash: okay I don't think that can actually happen though..
Me: It might not have, but i was happy to tip them just because it was funny
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Cash: and how well do you think you know this person?
Me: *considers explaining how much I know about a beloved mutual without ever knowing their name or face* ... I have no idea who this person is
I think in the end Cash decided there was no saving me from myself
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everyone makes fun of soap when they find out how many hair and skin products he keeps on hand. the cabinet in his bathroom is filled to bursting and he always keeps travel sized bottles on him on missions
when soldiers outside the 141 find out, they call him precious and self-obsessed, a vain pretty boy too preoccupied with his reflection to focus on the enemy. no wonder how he got his callsign. price has given up telling him to leave them on base and just teaches him to individually wrap them so they don’t rattle against each other and give himself away
what they don’t know is that each product contains an ingredient that when mixed with any number of the others, creates potent chemical bombs. he was caught unarmed once, he won’t let it happen again
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