Hi anon. Actively avoiding them, I probably have less than 10 years to change my mind but don’t think so. I always said I would adopt if I change my mind. Still think that way. My partner doesn’t want any either. I work in childcare and I used to be a teacher, so I get my kid fix all the time. 5 days a week I get to smell, hug and kiss other people’s babies and kids and then go home and do whatever the fuck I want. It’s better lol. My kids are things I create, like songs. That’s fine with me. I love children, just not my thing for my own life but I would be a great mom, without a doubt.
If you wanna protect AO3 or character ai. Or Wattpad. Or Tumblr. Or discord. Or even the right for undocumented people and minors to use the fucking Internet reblog this I swear to God. Reblog this and reblog as many KOSA posts as you can go on their website and contact your Representatives. Do it. Do it. Do it.
Did you see the video where Israeli soldiers dressed up like Muslim women and doctors and stormed the hospital in the West Bank and assassinated 3 young Palestinians?
Did you see the bloody pillow with the bullet hole in it?
THIS IS WHO THEY MURDERED IN THAT BED. A paralyzed CHILD named Bassel.
This video was taken just one day before Israel literally shot him in the face in his bed.
Just when you think they can’t get any lower, they do. I don’t care what lies they tell about this child, it is illegal EVERYWHERE to do what they did.
This kid had nothing to do with October 7th. And anything else he did, you simply aren’t allowed to go into a hospital and murder a paralyzed child.
It’s CRAZY that we even have to say this.
And the White House actually defended this today, but it was before this video was released.
Meet Mohammed Nazzal, a Palestinian child. He was in administrative arrest (this means he can stay held captive without charge for as long as israel decides, also look it up for better understanding) without charge or trial in Israeli occupation prisons and was released yesterday as part of the hostages exchange.
"They shattered metal bars on me, beating me non-stop on my head, broke my hands. They starved me."
at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"
like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.
"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."
... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.
and i'd still keep writing.
i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.
i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley
"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"
and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.
it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.
Au where Damian comes to Gotham with the goal of infiltrating and eventually overthrowing Batman instead of inheriting the mantle. Not much changes from canon except for the fact that he views everything that batman owns as his. That's his future cave and his future batmobile. This also includes his robins. After all everyone knows Batman wouldn't really be Batman without them.
Cue a very bewildered Tim being lectured on his eating habits by a righteous Damian who won't let one of his people take shortcuts with their health.