entropy is implacable because
you can't help but be part of it.
the inhale that puts effects out in front of causes
scatters all plans and schemas on exhale
but for you,
I'd try,
I'd try,
I'd try
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How'd you get to be such a fuckin sweetheart, huh?
Being a sweetheart isn't and end state! It's a process. I was really lucky growing up; my parents did right by me and I was able to find things I enjoyed (drama and programming) that eventually lead me to succeed as an adult. But it took a long time and a lot of exposure to different perspectives to figure out how to love myself and others as easily as I do now.
By now it's a self-sustaining process for me, because my life is full of people who remind me about love every day. I think the most important part of the road here was absorbing a bunch of humanism. I love works of art and philosophy that remind me that the world is can be for people, a place that makes us happy and whole. I'll recommend some works that really stuck with me:
Breakfast of Champions, Kurt Vonnegut
I Heart Huckabees, David O. Russel
Consider the Lobster, David Foster Wallace
I, Robot, Isaac Asimov
Everything Everywhere All at Once, Daniels
The Matrix, The Wachowskis
Spider-Man 1-3, Sam Raimi
Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality, Eliezer Yudkowsky
Unsong, Scott Alexander
A Practical Guide to Evil, erraticerrata (have not finished but would recommend so far)
The Good Place, created by Michael Shur
John Brown's Body, folk song
Wild Geese, Mary Oliver
The Adventure Zone: Balance, The McElroy Family
The Blackstone Rangers, poem by Gwendolyn Brooks, performance by my wife (impossible to find tickets for but a must-see)
Holes, Louis Sachar
This picture of my dog:
Anyone who sees this post is free to recommend something beautiful or insightful or beloved in the notes.
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A Cage of Guilt
* . ⊹ a doc!ren moodboard
🩷 🩵 🩷
🩵 ☕ 🩵
🩷 🩵 🩷
* . ⊹ div
ren wanders the city on his off days, enjoying the food and the lights and tucked-away shops. he decorates his space with trinkets he buys during his excursions, and he pins photos from his outings on his pinboard. an illusion of connection to the people around him. his mask is too strong to open up to anyone; he can't be more than the friendly doctor, or the friendly coworker, or the friendly customer.
in the end, he's left in his lonely apartment with his coffee and takeout, sitting at a table big enough for one. still stuck in the cage his parents constructed around him in childhood, perpetuated by his exhausting job run by people who shouldn't be in charge of vulnerable peoples' lives, until his emotions eventually build and explode.
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the problem with me deeming this particular style good enough to post is that i am now posting a morbillion doodles and nothing else. hell and suffering on planet earth
anyways i slapped this accent on mirage while i
a) draw her a goddamn custom
b) find another dragon for it
and i figured i may as well actually draw her wearing it
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