I’m thinking about Mahito’s great great uncle maintaining and preserving a peaceful and beautiful thing in a way that to an outside observer looks tedious and unimportant, hoping to pass the duty off to a successor but ultimately he cannot find one and dies with it.
I’m thinking about the specificity of the blocks being made and handled with care, not with malice or ill intent.
I’m thinking about Hayao Miyazaki, a bastion of beautiful 2d hand drawn animation who refuses to retire.
I’m thinking about a world where animation is so rarely made with love over profit and efficiency.
I’m thinking about how, though the old man didn’t see it, the next generation still hangs onto a piece of that beautiful, tedious thing and takes it with them because it feels important.
I’m thinking about Mahito being told he should forget, but no. He shouldn’t.
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also adding onto that when people on here are like Did Nobody Pay Attention During History Class? the obvious answer is No, We Did Not Because We We’re Kids/Teenagers and Who Pays Attention In Class???
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been on an utdr kick. occasionally i feel the snag of old fandoms… but tbh i blame gaster, because he never left in the first place.
also i know almost nothing about horrortale sans pls forgive me. i’m basing it off the game demo i saw like six years ago.
bro you could totally fit the whole axe in there. question is where would it go.
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not being able to put a caption on a post is not a problem. what is a problem is when you pretend like you are being bullied by people who rely on alt text/image descriptions just because they want to be able to follow the same content as you. nobody called you abled they just asked for a fucking image description
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anybody stuck on the fact that Colin told Penelope that he traveled to seventeen cities but told his siblings that he couldn’t remember how many he went to / refused to talk about his travels ………….. sigh
Not only that but also the fact that he was probably so lonely the entire time. Just completely, utterly lonesome. Writing letters to his siblings who complain about his writing style, not receiving any responses from Penelope, he was detached from his taste of interesting, riveting correspondence that he had during his last travels w Penelope and the hunger that seeped from that absence left him starving for it unknowingly.
Even when in the arms of beautiful ladies he didn’t know, he was utterly, completely, alone and unheard and unseen and left chasing for some feeling that he could not grasp or reach. His own insecurities flooded up inside him and left him wondering for something unknown. Looking for the right personality, the right purpose for him to be seen and taken seriously not only by society but also his own family. He doesn’t enjoy adhering to the rules and constructs set up by society but the world does not accept him as he is so he conforms and twists himself up into this fabrication of a person and it works.
Or at the very least, he perceives that it works because Anthony begins to start respecting him and taking him out for celebratory drinks and the ladies seem to swoon at his every word and he isn’t bothering his family about the “unimportant” details of his travels (meaning that he doesn’t speak of his travels to anyone, besides penelope, penelope who encouraged his interests and behaviors and quirks, penelope who embraced him with smiles as bright as early greek mornings that rise with her wit, her beauty, her tenacity.)
His attempt to blend in with the norm has worked, yet he feels oh so alone and empty and unsatisfied. He has been suffering for eons trying to fit in and once he finally reached this goal it’s almost as if… he’s been drained of meaning. It’s almost as if he’s uncomfortable pretending to be this man that society tells him that he must be, as if he doesn’t want to be this man, but instead, wants to simply be, colin.
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