#on losing friends

[saltair-and-webweaves]

Words from the mouths of babes, promises ocean deep. But never to keep.

@inanotherunivrse/cocaine jesus - rainbow kitten surprise/fredrick backman, us against you/i lost a friend - finneas/poem - langston hughes/ocean vuong, on earth we’re briefly gorgeous/the underrated heartache - rupi kaur/@sarakleijn/unknown/motion sickness - phoebe bridgers/ @honeytuesday/saw ur mom at the grocery store - abby cates/louise glück, seizure/@thundersoon/ bronze - the regrettes/ritika jyala, the world is a sphere of ice and our hands are made of fire/i still forget we’re not even friends - trista mateer/the light that shines when things end - anonymous/couch sleeper, unknown site/ @saltair-and-palemoonlight/i lost a friend - finneas/dear friend, - dayglow/peter - taylor swift

Requested here

[neverlandsky]

— now i wouldn't know who to name if someone asks who my best friend is because i don't think you'll say mine.

[easier-t0-cry]

sometimes i see a video i know you’d laugh at, and i never know what to do with myself. what am i supposed to do with these pieces of you? what am i to do with the knowledge i still have of you?

[jupiterslibrary]

one of the differences between good omens the show vs good omens the book that will always fuck me up is the post-bookshop fire scene. crowley goes from picking himself up, dusting himself off, accepting the loss of aziraphale and Just Driving Anyway to completely falling apart. i do get why people have gripes with it being changed so fundamentally, and i've thought about it a lot myself, but i've never been able to bring myself to get mad about it. i always circle back to how the book was written by two best friends. that drunken, wrecked, grief stricken scene was written in a post-pratchett world. he lost his best friend.

[oars]

[inkskinned]

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.

you create because you're greedy.

[rileyclaw]

you know how everything is like a hundred times funnier when you're not allowed to laugh??

[why-is-it-always-autumn]

Love a self-inflicted time loop. The main character isn’t trapped.  They can stop whenever they want.  But how can they when things aren’t perfect yet?  They can do better than this.  They need to try again.  They can get it right this time.  They just need to try again.  They can stop anytime they want.  Just one more time.  They can fix this. They just need to try again.  There are still things to fix.  They just need to try again.

[autismmydearwatson]

Every time I watch Dune I forget about it but I'm foaming at the mouth over how Paul has a vision of himself as a powerful, respected, divine figure with millions worshipping him and he just says "Somebody help me"

[qiinamii]

"Xiao does things" (and friends) twitter log part 2

-- UPDATE: removed some of the arts to make its own individual post since I am bad at organizing, sorry! (but the last one is new lol) xD

[bigfatbreak]

"what's the biggest difference in Tom's character in the dad villain au" you've never seen a papa-bear go so grizzy mode so fast

[nerdpoe]

When Danny decides to reincarnate, centuries after his adventures, he chooses a random Dimension of Heroes and Villains.

He's expecting adventure! Heroics! A life worth bragging about in the Afterlife!

He wakes up in a tube, staring down at surprised teen heroes as they release him and another person.

Later, he finds out that he's a clone of Batman and Superman, and the other clone is of Superman and Lex Luthor.

He came into this world expecting adventures, not a weird custody battle about him and his brother (because that's what Conner is) between two A-List superheroes.

[deftonesmylove]

if you're looking at some food and doubting yourself if you should eat it or not, the answer is no

[wily-art]

[bbq-stickets]

Budding elbows with your coworker at 50 mph yes yes

[henwilsons]

this goes beyond friendship, and i love you to the core.