definitely the thing I miss most about living in the US is the random wildlife I would see even around my own neighbourhood. Last time I was there I saw a coyote a few streets from my dad's house which was amazing. But I would regularly see bald eagles, great blue herons, hummingbirds, seals, salmon, obv raccoons (this doesnt seem that crazy now but when I moved there raccoons were an exotic animal to me bc i'd seen it in pocahontas. it was like seeing jasmine's tiger in ur garden). more rarely I've seen sea lions, a porpoise, and once everyone in the neighbourhood gathered to see a snowy owl that was in a tree, that was a Big Moment
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My cat just ran outside while I was taking my dog out to the bathroom, refuses to come back while calling her and shaking food at her. Actively runs in the opposite direction. And ofc someone broke the laser pointer I keep on my keys so I can't trick her back into the apartment. I'm so pissed that shit broke off, all my other crappy keychains are still attached. The laser was how I got her back last time she escaped but she'd only taken a few steps out and I was able to snatch her.
And I'm not supposed to have her so I can't even notify the apartment complex a cat is missing 😐 guess she's an outdoor cat now :/
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they just didn't have to write him as "a great philanthropist"; "a generous benefactor of the empire bay planetarium"; "frequent officer of the empire bay press guild";
"a frequent target of political slander and false arrest because of generosity towards the press"
and at the same time write him as the first of the others to organize drug trafficking; a man who tried to kill all his competitors; "a shady bastard, even for guys in this business"; "ruthless modernizer"; a man who secretly views his close friend as a liability; "the man who killed his own boss" to take his place
"few will moan moretti's passing" from the lost heaven's newspapers and there's nothing like that in the cut-out news reports about carlo's death
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You know I think my love for trespassing and illegal entry curiosity about forbidden places was instilled in me as early as 4 years old. Yes there was the maintenance shed (?) on the oval that piqued my interest when I was 10-12, which Pav used to admire while she waited outside in the cold and wet until primary school started an hour later. But I think it started from before the… maintenance shed (I never did find out it’s true purpose)
I always did like locked doors. Actually I didn’t like them because you couldn’t open them, but the part I did like was the intrigue and mystery. The allure.
Now, the kindergarten I attended was split into two groups, each to a room. Sapphire group and ruby group. Sapphire group, which I was in, was conventional kindergarten, and we had the superior playground with more equipment and a sand pit and swings and a slide and it was basically heaven. Ruby group was more playgroup-oriented. It’s outdoors area was fenced off from ours, and from the little you could see from the wicker fence, it was a dearth of mulch and scattered toys, baked by the open sun. This FASCINATED me. Why was there such rampant inequality? What was it like to play there?
From the indoors, the two groups were separated by a big door as well, inaccessible to tiny 4-year-old children. But from what I could see from my tiny height (I was THE shortest person in kindergarten), there was a long line of tables with toys set up on it. I so wanted to touch their toys, see them up close. I wanted to meet these Ruby group prisoners on the other side, those that we could not interact with.
And thus my love for forbidden areas was born <3
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Pro-tip for people who get depressed in dreary or stormy weather: CRY IN THE RAIN
I’ve found that the best way for me to not hate rain and storms is to just become part of it. I will go on a walk, and instead of fighting the losing battle of trying not to get wet, I just make sure I have a few layers for warmth and then accept the rain as it comes. As someone with a lot of sensory issues, this is actually easier for my brain to handle then trying not to get wet. So long as I know that the MOMENT I am inside I can change into warm dry clothes.
Just the feeling of the wind and the stinging cold and the sounds and the water, it is kinda nice when I’m feeling very emotionally numb. And a lot of time it allows me to actually feel emotions that I’ve been pushing down or not had the energy to feel. I’ve shouted with the wind, cried with the rain, and sat with puddles and just allowed myself to exist.
I just…highly recommend going out into a rainstorm and getting completely soaked and sobbing about your broken heart. No one listens better then the hundred howling voices of the wind all wailing along with you.
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Cities scare me. Y'all just walk around with hundreds of ads shoved in your face everywhere you go?
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you’re going to the NY show? me too!! I’m so excited. are you planning to queue? I’m slightly concerned about how hot it usually is the last week in July but I’m trying to be chill about it.
Hello fellow Forest Hills attendee!!
I have floor tickets for NY but I am definitely not planning on queueing for any extended period of time because I'm old and have no desire to camp all day in the heat to fight for a spot at the barricade. (That sounds like a truly miserable experience!!) I also have PTSD from getting caught up in a stampede at the Global Citizens Festival in 2019 so I don't do well with densely packed crowds with a lot of people touching me. So you'll find me happily vibing in the back of the pit with my alcoholic beverage, @a-brighter-yellow and @onesweetworld18, and anyone else who wants to come hang.
I'm super excited about this venue. I saw Mumford & Sons there in 2013 when the venue reopened, and I MANIFESTED this venue for Louis, I had been saying all through the pandemic that it's where he needed to play. It's gonna be a great night!!
Come say hi if you want, I'm very nice!
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I was watching an 80s Paul interview recently and he mentioned he’d once tried to buy a house next to Regent’s Park but they wouldn’t let him because they didn’t want a pop star living there (IDK how that works, maybe they’re leasehold or have some kind of covenant).
Anyway I guess that’s why he ended up in St John’s Wood. I bet he was so pissed off, I mean you can become one of the most richest and most successful people in the country and the toffs still won’t let you in.
(Although they probably didn't want girls hanging around outside screaming either but would they have known to expect that? I guess this would have been at the height of Beatlemania so I might be seeing classism where there is none).
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