#astrophobia *

[spinz-404]

I like danger sign :)

[silvermoon424]

I really love both outer space and the ocean, but if I think too much about how vast and poorly understood they are I feel like the walls are closing in. Just a deep sense of dread.

[what-ails-you]

Space ship!!

[auradaparanormal]

Astrophobia, Melanoheliophobia and Megalophobia warning!

(Theres probably some really deep symbolism here but I can't find it) -The Artist Herself

The backstory behind this is Wander visiting his home planet that he hasn't visited in ten millennia and he forgets that it orbited a dying supergiant.

[snobgoblin]

so, if the jellyfish in Ponyo are moon jellies (which they appear to be)

then that's pretty interesting bc a plot point of Ponyo is that the moon is getting too close to the earth...

idk it's like... the moon and the ocean are literally connected because of gravity and the tides and stuff but maybe it also represents how Ponyo is both drawn to land and the ocean... while she very much wants to be on land she still does know a lot about ancient sea creatures, able to name their full scientific names off the top of her head- idk I feel like it's symbolic somehow. like Ponyo is tied to the moon in that way... maybe if she had kept her powers, one day she would have been in full control of the moon itself like how Granmamare controls the ocean

[matiiiih]

The whole gang from my Solar System character design- video!

Which one is your favourite? :)

[wickedmothmanboobs]

Hello Beautiful

(Via my phone through a telescope)

(Celestron Nexstar 8SE)

[cultofcreatures]

there are worse things than spaghettification

[pikacookieplayz]

let's try: outer wilds

i havent been able to stop playing this game since i recorded this. genuinely beautiful game.

[vilevexedvixen]

I love how fear and interest / adoration / curiosity / wonder have so much overlap.

I always found space and the deep sea fascinating as a kid, but have grown to revere both with slight apprehension in light of their grandeur and mystery no matter how much I learn of both.

The reverse is true of spiders. I've always been afraid of spiders (encountering them irl in my personal space), but have grown fond of them and respect both their roles in nature and just cool stuff they do generally. Plus they are cool / cute under a microscope. Still hard to resist crushing them with a book if they decide to camp in my bedroom though.

[the-entity-down-the-street]

Had a dream that Jupiter was looming in the sky overhead, and everyone else was saying this was a normal phenomenon, I was so freaked out that I had to call off work for "astrophobia." The haunting, unfeeling red eye of the gas giant-- which is actually a storm many times the size of our planet-- was just staring us all in the face, and apparently this was normal.

Honestly it was a pretty good metaphor for the current state of the world.

[silvermoon424]

As much as I love space stuff, sometimes I get this deep primal fear when I look at fields of galaxies or just the vastness of space or whatever. I guess part of my brain just freaks out over how small I am lol

[ttepshortstories]

ATMOSPHERE (astrophobia)

I’ve never been a stranger to the black, empty expanse of the night sky. It conquered all horizons, its vast nothingness large and imposing, its depths impossibly infinite and yet not too far away at all.

When I laid myself down in the thick, grassy vegetation—damp clovers and weeds and things that looked like flowers—and when I held my gaze to the sky, a staring contest with the eye of infinity, I could pretend that those horizons fell away, leaving me stranded.��

My parents were gone and I had no husband or kids, so I lived alone in my small cottage out in the fields of southern Colorado. While mostly it remained as flat as could be, my house sat in a small dip leading up to a large hill, on which the closest town was situated. That place is where I got my food, went to work, and where I generally found myself most of the day.

However, on the other side of my house was another slight rise. Not nearly a hill; simply a slope back up into flatness, where my field sat.

It wasn’t truly my field, of course. It was just land that no one really owned or wanted. It was large and overgrown, but it was quiet and lovely in a way that not many places are these days. I’d sit, so early in the morning that some would call it late at night, and watch the stars twinkle. I’ve always been fascinated with how stars only twinkle because of our atmosphere; it’s a gentle reminder that there really is something between us, though at night it doesn't feel that way: Sometimes I wished I could remove that intervening layer, float free and endless just like I imagined when I laid my head down in a bed of weeds.

One early morning, when my head was pillowed in the thick vegetation and my gaze was affixed upon the endless blackness of void, I noticed something odd with the sky that I had made myself familiar with over countless hours spent analyzing every square inch of it, every mile and light year it truly was, trying desperately to map it out in the way that sailors did, trying to wrap my head around the sheer enormity of the blanket above me. I noticed that the stars weren’t twinkling. 

As the dread began to worm its way under my fingernails, as my heartbeat quickened and as I broke out into a cold sweat, my mind entered free-fall. For just a moment—Maybe a chance moment, maybe a manufactured one—I began to truly understand the concept infinity.

My eyelids pressed together, trying to stop the onslaught of never ending darkness from consuming me; the bright lights already burned into my vision as I desperately tried to do away with what I had searched for all of these years. Truly grasping the enormity of the universe around me was like floating in the depths of the ocean, unsure as to which was further—the light of forgiving air, or the bottom of the sea floor.

I understood it, only for a moment. Only a fraction of a fraction of a moment when considering the grand scale of life of which I was now all too aware of. Regardless, I was pinned in place by the oppressive darkness of the night sky, even as the sun began to peak over the horizon, as harsh lightness blotted out the stars, as the morning brushed infinity behind the thin blanket of day.

I knew better. I knew the morning had not swallowed the night time. The sky’s teeth were bared into a bright smile, but only moments ago its jaws were stretched wide open.

It was around four in the afternoon when I managed to drag myself back into my house, my fragile ceiling mere tissue paper holding back a flood, a naive suggestion of safety.

I moved to the city that month. The inescapable light pollution seemed enough to keep me from being swallowed up. But still, I knew that was a lie. 

Because whenever rogue, faraway stars peak through the shield of man-made brightness, they don’t twinkle.

[snobgoblin]

is there anything more enriching than making an oddly specific pie chart that will be useful to nobody

[matiiiih]

Uranus from my Solar System character design- video!