s-s-s-senp-p-p-pai

[s-s-s-senp-p-p-pai]

back in college i interned for a summer at a start up magazine that went no where and i had to write wellness articles or some shit. and i wrote the line, "everyone has experienced heartbreak at one point or another" and my editor like circled it and said "don't assume everyone has the same experiences as you" and i was like ???? so then i did a test and in the next article i wrote a line that said "you probably remember [X concept] from your college health class" and she approved it without comment. so apparently in her world, going to college is more universal than heartbreak.

[s-s-s-senp-p-p-pai]

thinking a lot about someone treating their first snuff like losing their virginity on prom night. dressing up surprisingly dapper and setting the perfect scene. wilted rose petals and trampled corsages on the mildew-ridden floor of the cheapest, dingiest motel you could find. a few towns out to play it safe. handcuffs dangled and forgotten on the rearview mirror of your moms car like years-old air freshener. music blasted loud so the neighbors don’t hear anything. maybe some complaints about the shitty music choices, but at least they won’t hear the muffled screams. and if they do, you could always chalk it up to the tape skipping. camcorder propped up on the cuck chair while you perform for your audience. flickering light bulbs splattered in blood, painting the room in red. shrugging when the condom breaks because you’re both young, it’ll be okay, nothing bad is gonna happen. you love each other, don’t you? yeah, you do. besides, this is supposed to be the best night of your lives. live a little, right?

[s-s-s-senp-p-p-pai]

mans_life_weasels.jpg

[s-s-s-senp-p-p-pai]

this is going to sound like such a little sibling ass take but i genuinely believe that being a little bit annoying is actually a greater sign of maturity and self awareness than being universally likeable and on good terms with everyone

[s-s-s-senp-p-p-pai]

Problemista (2023) dir. Julio Torres

[s-s-s-senp-p-p-pai]

I think I may never be sad ever again. There is a statue entitled "Farewell to Orpheus" on my college campus. It's been there since 1968, created by a Prof. Frederic Littman that use to work at the university. It sits in the middle of a fountain, and the fountain is often full of litter. I have taken it upon myself to clean the litter out when I see it (the skimmers only come by once a week at max). But because of my style of dress, this means that bystanders see a twenty-something on their hands and knees at the edge of the fountain, sleeves rolled up, trying not to splash dirty water on their slacks while their briefcase and suit coat sit nearby. This is fine, usually. But today was Saturday Market, which means the twenty or so people in the area suddenly became hundreds. So, obviously, somebody stopped to ask what I was doing. "This," I gestured at the statue, "is Eurydice. She was the wife of Orpheus, the greatest storyteller in Greece. And this litter is disrespectful." Then, on a whim, I squinted up at them. "Do you know the story of Orpheus and Eurydice?" "No," they replied, shifting slightly to sit.

"Would you like to?"

"Sure!"

So I told them. I told them the story as I know it- and I've had a bit of practice. Orpheus, child of a wishing star, favorite of the messenger god, who had a hard-working, wonderful wife, Eurydice; his harp that could lull beasts to passivity, coax song from nymphs, and move mountains before him; and the men who, while he dreamed and composed, came to steal Eurydice away. I told of how she ran, and the water splashed up on my clothes. But I didn't care. I told of how the adder in the field bit her heel, and she died. I told of the Underworld- how Orpheus charmed the riverman, pacified Cerberus with a lullaby, and melted the hearts of the wise judges. I laughed as I remarked how lucky he was that it was winter- for Persephone was moved by his song where Hades was not. She convinced Hades to let Orpheus prove he was worthy of taking Eurydice. I tugged my coat back on, and said how Orpheus had to play and sing all the way out of the Underworld, without ever looking back to see if his beloved wife followed. And I told how, when he stopped for breath, he thought he heard her stumble and fall, and turned to help her up- but it was too late. I told the story four times after that, to four different groups, each larger than the last. And I must have cast a glance at the statue, something that said "I'm sorry, I miss you--" because when I finished my second to last retelling, a young boy piped up, perhaps seven or eight, and asked me a question that has made my day, and potentially my life: "Are you Orpheus?" I told the tale of the grieving bard so well, so convincingly, that in the eyes of a child I was telling not a story, but a memory. And while I laughed in the moment, with everyone else, I wept with gratitude and joy when I came home. This is more than I deserve, and I think I may never be sad again.

Here is the aforementioned statue, by the way.

[s-s-s-senp-p-p-pai]

I can’t believe I got this far into svsss and didn’t mention that the reveal of a second transmigrator happened when Shen Qingqiu, in order to sprint away from his own grief, looked another man in the face and said “Devil’s Sacrament” and not only was the other guy at the Devil’s Sacrament he was the the Devil himself.

[s-s-s-senp-p-p-pai]

Wuhhhhh

[s-s-s-senp-p-p-pai]

people in books and tv shows are always getting so upset they throw an untouched meal in the trash. that would never be me. i'd receive the worst news of my life and still be like Let me put this in the fridge.

[s-s-s-senp-p-p-pai]

yes. the old man gets fucked to shreds 😔

[s-s-s-senp-p-p-pai]

not wanting to be outdone by the benders in the gang, sokka invents the flamethrower, the supersoaker, the leaf blower, and the concept of throwing rocks at people

[s-s-s-senp-p-p-pai]

yea so like i feel like i often see posts that r like "i need a tgirl pervert to force herself onto me" or whatever and like thats cool i guess, but the reality is that most tgirls will be far too shy and timid and, ironically, scared of seeming like a weird pervert to make the first move. no, what we need is more cis lesbian chaser perverts who will creep on their tgirl friend and touch her and be forward and make her feel pretty and desired,,, and *then* she'll feel comfortable enough around you to pin you down and breed you until shes satisfied ^_^

[s-s-s-senp-p-p-pai]

As fucked up and traumatized and emotionally unavailable as my father was… he fuckin tried. He tried so goddamn hard. Went to PARENTING CLASSES on HIS OWN. Taught himself HOW TO READ so he could read me bedtime stories. He taught me how to be independent. How to stand up for myself. How to fight back. He taught me how to not need men like him.

[s-s-s-senp-p-p-pai]

cardinal rule to keep DYKE pins, pronoun pins, other such ingroup signals off my jacket so lesbians with the “witchy vibes” trans flag poser jackets think I’m just another metalhead boy who could not possibly be taking ‘her’ girlfriend home from the show

[s-s-s-senp-p-p-pai]

“why would we make plans in front of you if you weren’t invited?” babe i was left out of everything growing up, i need 100% confirmation you want me there or i simply will not go

[s-s-s-senp-p-p-pai]

One thing I’ve noticed about AI users is that they are completely repulsed by the notion of feeling bad or frustrated for even the slightest moment

[s-s-s-senp-p-p-pai]

i go to the shop and I ask if they have any raspberries. they say no, they used to sell raspberries, but they haven't had any in stock in the last 15 years. I ask if there's somewhere else I can go to buy raspberries. They say no, with confidence and pride, they're the only shop around who has ever sold or will ever sell raspberries. Other shops might sell other fruit, sure, but they have a monopoly on all raspberries forever. I ask if they're possibly planning on them selling them again in future? they say they can't tell me that.

on the way home, I encounter someone eating raspberries. I ask and they tell me that they grow their own, they got some seeds from the shop back in The Raspberry Days and kept them. They take me to a field of many beautiful raspberry plants and invite me to pick my own, they're free for all the town to pick whenever they'd like.

someone comes up behind us. It's the shop manager, President of Nintendo Shuntaro Furukawa. he hatefully throws a bob-omb that blows up and kills both of us instantly for stealing 200 trillion dollars worth of potential Raspberry Shop That Doesn't Do Raspberries Anymore profits that they weren't making and then he turns around to the camera with a big thumbs up and says don't do piracy or something ok please