an under-appreciated joy of mid to late 20s is watching your friends starting to take care of themselves. we used to roll eyes at wellness together but now you tell me that you want to get some glass jars for meal-prepping breakfast. another friend sends me a picture of her chia seed pudding: “i used that recipe from the reel you sent.” the friend that has taken up journaling tells me to junk-journal: “you will document every mundane day of your life; it will be nice to look back on when we are old.” all these women that you grew up with, being angry with the world and hurting yourself in the process, are now taking care of themselves not just in spite of the anger, but because of it. we are finding the little things that make us happy and engaging in self care that we used to scoff at, because loving and taking care of yourself is the most revolutionary act there is.
so embarrassing to be drawing an OC and forget to add some part of their design...like yeah i made this guy...hand picked everything about them....yeah i forgot to add the things i like about them....
“The world is how we color it.” —e.d. maramat | erwinism
On the walls, odd geometrical shapes of stick people and square cows and flying dogs telling fairytales and fantasies, the oldies not once bothered to decipher or unlock mysteries from little cave people who use pillows to build forts and fluffy castles.
Those tiny beings with their twinkling minds soon find out that there are places for…
sure, "I'm part of this marginalized group that I'm writing about" isn't a get out of jail free card for all bigotry, but if someone says "I'm portraying an exact experience I've had, this literally happened to me" and your response is "okayyy but think of the optics of showing that that happens? maybe keep that to yourself?" it might be time to reconsider your approach.