Regarding the post about the spell become undone.
Why would someone need to suck back the menstrution blood? Like it’s supposed to come out of the body anyway and isn’t necessarily or directly related to the sex.
That's the worst part. Nobody needs to be doing that. Unfortunately sometimes things that are entirely unnecessary are nonetheless inevitable due to being unstoppable.
It can also help to remember there's no universal or 'correct' amount of time that it takes to process one's emotions - it's different for everyone. Like in extreme cases with something like grief, or more specifically losing someone. Someone might want to completely pretend everything is fine, some people might cry and need emotional support every day for quite some time, some people might need a combo of the two, and there are millions of other types of reactions. In a situation like that, where a death cannot be undone or fixed, don't you think it makes sense people would need to talk about it and process it? That same thing also applies to less serious situations. We're social animals who seek comfort in one another, and venting is basically that.
Is it in any way illuminating to what kind of a gap there is between us that I don't grieve? My father died when I was 17 and the only thing I felt about it was to be mildly relieved - he wasn't actively evil, not the kind of a person whose death you'd celebrate or anything, just the type whose presence in the room makes you wish he'd leave.
Other deaths in the family have meant even less than that to me. When my paternal grandfather died, the biggest emotion I felt was annoyed - I had pastel pink hair around that time, and I was just done dyeing my hair back to my natural colour in order to be presentable for the funeral, when my mom informed me that actually my aunt already arranged the funeral herself and didn't invite us. And mom had fucking watched me ruin a hair colour that was so hard to achieve and expensive to do in order to attend an event that she knew was already over and we weren't even invited to????
When my paternal grandmother died, I felt mildly guilty of being relieved. She was the only family member I ever felt bad for, even if I didn't like her. Her life had been nothing but misery from the beginning to the end, to the point where my sister snickered at her funeral over how badly the priest was lying through his teeth trying to paint grandma's life as something worth living. She didn't ~meet her future husband~ in the city, she got knocked up by accident and had a shotgun wedding with a mean-spirited, violent alcoholic. The same aunt who didn't invite us to granddad's funeral didn't attend, saying she didn't want to fly to Finland "when the weather is so miserable". My father's mother outlived two of her three children and the last one didn't bother attending her funeral.
I didn't attend that aunt's funeral. Fuck her.
When my mother's father died, I didn't really feel like it was my obligation to mourn. He was the family patriarch, who had four children and seven grandchildren, a respected member of the communities he belonged in, and one hunting dog magazine published an article about how a great man of the field had died. I felt like other people were already doing enough. Mom spent his entire funeral fussing over whether I'm wearing or holding my hat right. He was buried on a stinging cold winter day where it physically hurt to be bareheaded outdoors, and I was counting minutes until I'd be allowed to either get back inside or put the shitty little formal funeral-appropriate cap (which mom made me buy, saying my normal warm solid black winter hat was too frivolous) back on my head.
Her fucking father died and she spent the whole time fussing over my unacceptable hat. I won't care when she dies and won't attend her funeral.
Hmm, do you not care about theire deaths because you didn't like them? Or because you just in general don't care about death? How would you feel if a stranger on the street gets run over in front of you? And what would you feel when your boyfriend dies?
I don't know. I dropped out of nursing school because I couldn't handle being around people whose pain and distress I could do nothing to help. And I don't mean looking at someone whose situation I could help but won't, I mean people who just genuinely cannot be helped. If you've never had to bathe a 90-year-old dementia patient who keeps screaming and crying and begging you not to do that, because she doesn't understand what's going on and thinks you're hurting her, you can't scoff and say that you know that you could.
I figured I could do nursing since I'm not particularly bothered by blood, shit, or any gross parts of the human body. Turns out that the part I can't handle is constantly being around people who are suffering and whose suffering I can't help. It's like constantly being in the same room with a blaring fire alarm and not being allowed or able to turn it off.
It can also help to remember there's no universal or 'correct' amount of time that it takes to process one's emotions - it's different for everyone. Like in extreme cases with something like grief, or more specifically losing someone. Someone might want to completely pretend everything is fine, some people might cry and need emotional support every day for quite some time, some people might need a combo of the two, and there are millions of other types of reactions. In a situation like that, where a death cannot be undone or fixed, don't you think it makes sense people would need to talk about it and process it? That same thing also applies to less serious situations. We're social animals who seek comfort in one another, and venting is basically that.
Is it in any way illuminating to what kind of a gap there is between us that I don't grieve? My father died when I was 17 and the only thing I felt about it was to be mildly relieved - he wasn't actively evil, not the kind of a person whose death you'd celebrate or anything, just the type whose presence in the room makes you wish he'd leave.
Other deaths in the family have meant even less than that to me. When my paternal grandfather died, the biggest emotion I felt was annoyed - I had pastel pink hair around that time, and I was just done dyeing my hair back to my natural colour in order to be presentable for the funeral, when my mom informed me that actually my aunt already arranged the funeral herself and didn't invite us. And mom had fucking watched me ruin a hair colour that was so hard to achieve and expensive to do in order to attend an event that she knew was already over and we weren't even invited to????
When my paternal grandmother died, I felt mildly guilty of being relieved. She was the only family member I ever felt bad for, even if I didn't like her. Her life had been nothing but misery from the beginning to the end, to the point where my sister snickered at her funeral over how badly the priest was lying through his teeth trying to paint grandma's life as something worth living. She didn't ~meet her future husband~ in the city, she got knocked up by accident and had a shotgun wedding with a mean-spirited, violent alcoholic. The same aunt who didn't invite us to granddad's funeral didn't attend, saying she didn't want to fly to Finland "when the weather is so miserable". My father's mother outlived two of her three children and the last one didn't bother attending her funeral.
I didn't attend that aunt's funeral. Fuck her.
When my mother's father died, I didn't really feel like it was my obligation to mourn. He was the family patriarch, who had four children and seven grandchildren, a respected member of the communities he belonged in, and one hunting dog magazine published an article about how a great man of the field had died. I felt like other people were already doing enough. Mom spent his entire funeral fussing over whether I'm wearing or holding my hat right. He was buried on a stinging cold winter day where it physically hurt to be bareheaded outdoors, and I was counting minutes until I'd be allowed to either get back inside or put the shitty little formal funeral-appropriate cap (which mom made me buy, saying my normal warm solid black winter hat was too frivolous) back on my head.
Her fucking father died and she spent the whole time fussing over my unacceptable hat. I won't care when she dies and won't attend her funeral.
Is it worth making the effort to fix your life? Rolling over, giving up, and dying seems so much easier to do than putting in the work to change anything
If you're sick and don't want to move, is it worth the effort to get up from bed and go to the bathroom if it's so much easier to just piss the bed? The only reason to choose the easier option over a hard one is when they both lead to good results.
Fixing your life is hard, and it sucks, but living in misery is hard and it sucks, too. Dying also sucks, and I can assure you that finding a way that isn't hard is harder than you would think. When all of the options suck, you choose the one that sucks but yields results, over the ones that suck for nothing in return.
If you're so miserable that you want to die, you're already reached the maximum levels of misery you can be in. You're miserable and suffering already. It's not a trade where you're giving up something you have for something you want - it's trading suffering that gives you nothing in exchange for suffering that gives you something.
[you watch as the victim suddenly rapidly ages backwards their entire life in roughly 35 seconds, you catch a brief glimpse of a fetus flopping on the ground like a fish where they stood only a moment earlier, until that also shrinks down and vanishes, leaving behind nothing but a stain of period blood and a separate squelch of cum. Some dude of unknown origin walks up with his dick out, vacuums up the cum and walks off, never to be seen again.]
plot twist, the guy is God
Oh so that's why the whole spell crashes if I try to remove him.
A sparrow+mouse gryphon would be so tiny and full of violence.
Would that be a spouse or am I missing something
and her roommate the rat/pigeon
Everyone who needs ideas for a warm-up sketch: Draw these two terrorising a nice day in the park.
the 'rageon' probably deserves its name, I can't imagine
piget is going to represent it better
Rageon and Pigét, the fanciest urbanite dames in town.
ok as an european who has never seen an american vulture or an opossum in real life, and knows straight-up nothing about these things:
What kind of folklore do Native American peoples have about vultures and opossums, and how would that cross-section to an animal that's a combination of both? And same about the crow-raccoon, now that I'm at it.
If someone here is Native and would find it fun to speculate some random stuff like that, please I am begging you pls tell.
A sparrow+mouse gryphon would be so tiny and full of violence.
Would that be a spouse or am I missing something
and her roommate the rat/pigeon
Everyone who needs ideas for a warm-up sketch: Draw these two terrorising a nice day in the park.
the 'rageon' probably deserves its name, I can't imagine
piget is going to represent it better
Rageon and Pigét, the fanciest urbanite dames in town.
Idea for a historical dark comedy, that would work just as well in so many different eras and places that I couldn't pick one:
A royal court where everyone is trying to murder the current ruler, but everyone's schemes just keep cancelling each other out. Everyone on the outside thinks that this period of rule is remarkably and unusually peaceful, but what are you going to do when someone's trying to kill the king with poison A, at the same time when someone else doused his drink with poison B, which are paradoxally antidotes for each other, and the third poison, extracted from a piece of supposedly cursed mouldy bread, is just antibiotic enough to treat the syphilis the king got from the courtesan who was sent to seduce him.
I mean this in the most sincere way possible, but I’m glad you will end up sad and alone, without any meaningful relationships or connections. Because you are truly a shallow, basic bitch, whose lukewarm observations are more out-of-touch than a celebrity during COVID.
You know what's the funniest part about you being the only person to ever see right through me?
no-one will ever believe you.
Who is this person
I'm sure they're somebody to someone. No idea who or what, though.
yeah golden retreiver boyfriends are great and I've met several personally, but personally I have a house cat boyfriend
My boyfriend read through this and literally sent me this on discord:
I mean this in the most sincere way possible, but I’m glad you will end up sad and alone, without any meaningful relationships or connections. Because you are truly a shallow, basic bitch, whose lukewarm observations are more out-of-touch than a celebrity during COVID.
You know what's the funniest part about you being the only person to ever see right through me?
no-one will ever believe you.
