#docummenting

[aimlesssoulwanders]

Nothing seems wrong but nothing seems right.In the ocean 🌊 of emotions,hits a terrible Tsunami but still I feel the calmness,where I was expecting a whole disastrous distruction but what's this -why this serenity in the ocean but deep down I know it's not the serenity but merely a calmness for few seconds of the universe.why it hurts when you fail while pleasures while achieving.Today a day of one of those days where life seems so unexpecting and leaves you in a path where you no longer can find yourself still walking with yourself. Today I failed in something and that's something that I have never failed. You may know or may not know that how it feels to fall from the position where you once were but now back in the valley of desolution. What hurts the most is that the villian of the story of yours is you only it's you who pushed yourself in that valley knowing intentionally. This does feels like the end of the world to me but not getting why this ocean is so quiet maybe it is dying slowly from inside or just bearing everything by itself. Still I know it's not the end of the world whichever path I chooses I will make make it to the new place new path. I am gathering my courage to stand up again not to show it to the world but to myself that even though I was the villain of myself who threw to desolution but I can be the hero who can reach to the top of the valley too

[isaacz]

[ncrambles]

Sillydoodkes...

[aropride]

>open laptop >new email notif >click it >GOOD NEWS >breathe sigh of relief >go to open tumblr to share this >click on wrong tab >several thousand words of ch.ameron petplay on my screen in the dining hall >switch tabs >several thousand DIFFERENT words of ch.ameron petplay on my screen in the dining hall >consider jumping out the window >successfully open tumblr

[abarelysapientpairofshoes]

I know it was just a drunk thoery that Odile never sincerely believed, but I think it could be fun to compile a Siffrin Assassin dossier from her point of view.

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Too many wips… too many wips…

[ichimatsufreak]

i seem to be the only person remembering this guy

[good-beans]

"Oh Pocket Lukas, we're really in it now..."

Thank you to the wonderful @luce-speaks who made me a Sacred Echoes Lukas cross stitch!! I'll find a more permanent home for him eventually, but for now I'm going to carry him around like a little locket >:3

[asukiess]

fellas...... is it an acceptable date night to fantasize with your secretary wife about bringing your dead wife back to life. by immediate means.

[geddyqueer]

narratively unsatisfying and inconsistent

[ncrambles]

oops!

there's been an issue with your machine. To fix this issue you must----

[adhdo5]

ON THE UPSIDE: slept off my migraine and took a good thorough shower we stay winning let's get this phonecalls

[rotten-dog-teeth]

I need to say something, as an archivist.

Please look after your books. Please. Don't throw them in the bin, don't tear pages out, don't screw them up. If you don't want them anymore, either sell them, or donate them, whether it be to a charity shop, a library, or a school or university.

I rescue old books and look after them. I've just been sorting through the most recent lot that I've gotten, and there were books in there - that the original owners wanted to just throw away - that had survived over 100 years, and predated the first (1st) world war.

That in itself, is amazing. Because what most people don't know/realise, is that so many books did not survive the world wars, especially the second (2nd) one. Not only were countless libraries destroyed in bombings, but so many books were burned and eradicated under the Nazi regime.

This is still an issue today, with book burnings and bannings still taking place, such as in the USA; as well as countries being bombed and seiged, destroying so many books containing records of those people's history, culture and lives, such as in Palestine.

I've found books that were printed the year the second (2nd) world war ended, first (1st) editions filled with documents from the war, detailing everything that happened, every action that was taken, everywhere they went, every letter that was exchanged, every soldier that was felled. Documents that would have otherwise been destroyed, if not during the war by the opposition, then by the people who wrote it in the first place, to try to hide certain aspects of the war to paint themselves in a better light, or cover up certains tragedies or mistakes. These are pivotal resources for historians, especially books for time periods less written about/well-documented.

So often, I see books that are on their last legs, falling apart, and most people's reactions are to just throw them in the bin. This breaks my heart. Not only are you destroying a record of something so human - whether that be stories told to children to help them sleep at night, records of a huge historical event that meant the world to the people of that time, poems written by someone painfully in love so long ago - but snuffing out the life that book lived.

Every book I rescue, I check for two (2) things: print date, and notes.

The print date is simple - it tells me how old the book is. But the notes are what I mean by the life of the book. So many books I find have hand-written notes in them, and they give you little hints of the life they've lived. Here are some real notes I've found in books:

"Peter, Chemistry department of [X] university" in a german-english dictionary of chemistry terminology. This book was a gift to a university student, he was studying chemistry, and probably either working with a German team, or maybe leaving home after university to go to Germany, or some other german speaking country. These kinds of books are really specific, and at the time of print (roughly the 50s or 60s if I remember correctly), you couldn't just search for it online (something a good portion of us have never known) - you had to find a specialist book shop or find one that could track it down for you. Whoever got this book, cared about the person they gave it to, and went through the effort of finding this specific book for Peter before he left home. I would guess maybe a family member. Maybe they never saw him again.

"For our 50th anniversary - Annie & Frank" in a little homemade books of recipes. This book had been put together over several years, presumeably over the course of this couple's marriage - 50 years. This book was probably an anniversary gift from one of the two (2) partners to the other. So many recipes, lovingly collected and kept over decades. Probably having been cooked for eachother a hundred times over. These people probably had such fond memories of being sat at the dinner table - maybe just the two (2) of them, maybe with family, friends, and other company - eating the warm, homemade meals from these recipes. Making and sharing food with someone is often a very intimate and loving thing to do. I like to think they loved eachother so very much.

[A double-sided A4 love letter] found in a book of poetry. The letter was faded, and most of it was indistinguishable, but there were little bits that I could read, and they were lovely. This was written more recently (it contained more modern dialect), but was still so precious all the same. I wonder what that book lived through. A spark. An anxious confession. A romance. Perhaps a break-up too. Maybe that's why the book ended up in the donations. I imagine that the recipient of the love letter and poetry forgot the letter was even in there. The book was probably a gift from their partner - maybe specially picked, perhaps because the recipient liked poetry, or that specific poet at least - and that's probably why they used the letter as a bookmark in it. I still think about those people sometimes, where they ended up. Where are they now?

Those are just some of them, and I hope you understand why I care so much about these little bundles of paper and ink. They tell a story, not just in what's printed, but in their age, their condition, in the little notes people leave behind. Even simply the fact that some books' pages are so thin and smooth from being flicked through and read by an adoring reader so many times that the page corners have been worn thin by stroking fingers.

You may feel like nobody cares about that one book you have sitting in the corner of your room, and that "there are thousands of those books, this one doesn't matter", or that it's "ruined" because of that little message your mum wrote on the front page when she got it for you, but what you don't realise is that future historians and archivists are begging you to look after it, and make sure it's given to a good home. It may end up being the last surviving copy of that book. That little message could tell them so much that you don't even notice right now.

It breaks my heart finding old books with pages missing, which may never be recovered - the contents lost to time forever. Finding books whose spines are falling apart and pages are moulded from dampness - having been neglected for years. Finding books whose pages are worn and faded, yellowed and bent - just left to rot.

It fustrates me when I find books that have been poorly or just outright incorrectly handled. You can tell if a book's from a school library, because it has tape all over the cover, hiding the face of the book with a permanent dust jacket, because apparently they decided it ought to stay hidden; because it has check-out pages glued over the print date, because the day somebody borrowed it is more important than the book's birthday. I love libraries, and they're so important, but sometimes I wish some of them took better care of their books.

This is my plea to the people, and love letter to the books.

Please. I love you.

[aropride]

im legit always saying this

[crazysodomite]

one thing about me is that documents make me paranoid. any notariuses want to protect me and take care of me and help me

[omniblades-and-stars]

For the wip ask game, id love to hear about It Was Never Going to Work!

Ok ok! This one's me indulging in some Hawke/Alistair tragic goodness. I think a lot about how long they could have been traveling with each other in the interim between the end of 2 and the part of Inquisition when we find them again.

So far, I haven't written very much. Just a little bit of a starting point to hang into while I plan how it's actually going to go. I posted some more of it here, if you'd like to read that bit. But I found this additional bit I wrote that I only sent directly in a chat and hadn't actually saved in my folder. Oops.

The innkeeper of the place Hawke has been staying at (under an assumed name) is an old dwarven woman who takes an immediate interest in flirting with Alistair just to fuck with him a little. Hawke and Alistair discuss this. Gotta have a little fun before I start destroying everything.

"Oh, her? Come on, Tillie's harmless," Hawke said with a ghost of a smile. Malevolent, more like. Alistair raised an eyebrow. "You call her Tillie?" Hawke shrugged, popping an olive in her mouth and returning her attention back to the maps spread out on her table. "When you flirt back, she gives you things," she answered with her mouth still full. She pointed to the tray of expensive Antivan olives and candied dates, imports that would have cost a fair copper or two. "She's not being serious." "She's a menace and you shouldn't encourage her."