octopussquirrel

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metamorphoses, ovid

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If you’re pining you need to stop and pick a different tree. You know, spruce it up a little

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god can you imagine glados equipped with tiktok therapyspeak. she’d be unbearable

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I need you, you know that. I need you too.

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One of my favourite things when reading fanfiction is when you click with an author's style so much that you adore the fanfiction you're reading, and once it's over you need more. So you go to their page and hope that there's more for any fandom you might know- only there isn't any. They've written for other fandoms you aren't familiar with and never would've thought about before.

But you're down so bad for their style and talent that they got you wading in like:

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my mom got me this little thing and im obsessed with him.... little creature..

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They used to cheer when they saw my face now, I fear I have fallen from grace

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#they’re the same thing

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I want everyone to understand the grief. There is no happy turn, no radiant volta. I won’t offer a lit lantern or fist of violets. One of my students stays after class. What do you mean by dust to dust? She asks me—curious rabbit, owlet. My smile’s vulpine. I mean you, girl. Us.

- Anya Silver in “Poetry Class, Ash Wednesday”

This is Anya Silver’s final book of poems, discovered on her computer by her husband on the day of her death in 2018 from metastatic breast cancer, which she had struggled against (sometimes in despair) and lived with (almost always triumphantly) for 14 years. Saint Agnostica chronicles her last months, explores her grief and her fierce attachments to her son and husband, expresses her doubts and her deepest longings, and rages against the mystery of a silent God. It is heart-wrenchingly beautiful.

The last time I saw Silver was at a Poetry by the Sea conference in 2017, where we spoke on a panel together. I will never forget what she said about the beauty of Ash Wednesday. The reminder that from ashes we have come and to ashes we will return is a welcoming one, she said, because everyone with a black cross on their forehead must admit that they, too, are dying. It felt to her like a real community, not like the experience she usually had sitting in a congregation where she felt like the only one with that visceral awareness.

…In “Saint Agnostica,” Silver longs for a saint of doubt. “She would understand my desire to love God, / but shrug when I say I’m not sure I do.”

- Jill Peláez Baumgaertner, 2022

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I need you, you know that. I need you too.

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Watching a post on FB about chickens not eating a food their owners got them, and people telling this person "just don't give them more until they eat it" and "they'll eat it if they're hungry enough" and thinking about how if someone asks about a toxic plant in their yard these same people will swear chickens "know what's good for them" and "they won't eat stuff that's bad for them." And somehow these two things live together in their heads with no conflict. Well which is it? Does your chicken know the feed is bad or can they not tell when things are good or bad for them?

I went through several feeds looking for one my birds actually liked that I also liked. The one they're on now is sound but they also seem to really enjoy it. They don't anymore, but they used to dig/sort through chows, spill a bunch, only eat it when they really had to. That's miserable, I think. What a miserable existence, to be expected to eat food you dislike every day with no control over it, no ability to change it. And it's deemed okay, because you're not willing to die over it so you're just being picky.

If your fowl are avoiding eating a feed, maybe it's not a good feed or maybe they don't like it. Maybe try a different one and see if you can find one that's decent but also tastes good. Try pellets vs crumble vs mash. This person was feeding mash (a powdery food meant to be served wet) dry and it had whole grains in it the birds were picking out. Of course they're going to pick out the whole grains and leave the dry powder behind. I would, too. It's not hard to give them some water with their chow. I do it near daily with crumble and the birds lose it, they love that stuff. It's so easy. It's such a little thing. Sometimes I just wish I could shake someone through a computer screen until their teeth rattle.

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got chased by a skeleton but when they caught me they just gave me a kiss and hug. turns out it was an xoskeleton.

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People who get sick from radiation exposure are faking it for attention, radiation is literally the divine light of creation and it nourishes those who are pure of spirit

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Some frog wizard magic ✨

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Nicola Coughlan as Penelope Featherington in the Bridgerton S3 Trailer