Wow.
What if supernatural creatures don’t exist anymore? What if they did once, but through the years, they slowly mixed in with humans?
You can see the blood of fairies in the way a ballet dancer hovers in mid air before he or she hits the ground. You can see it in the way that middle school girl never forgets when someone makes her a promise. You can see it in how that one little boy in the kindergarten class seems more comfortable in the forest on that field trip than the others.
You can see the blood of dryads in hikers who never trip over roots. You can see it in that suburban grandmother never lets any of her garden die. You can see it in that one kid who climbs a tree faster than his friends, barely looking at the branches as he goes.
You can see the blood of naiads in the way a professional swimmer seems to command the water to help them. You can see it in how a cross country runner needs a water break more often than his teammates. You can see it in the way that one girl in your class always has a water bottle on her desk.
You can see the blood of mermaids in a surfer who can be tossed around underwater for a long time without drowning. You can see it in a teenage boy who doesn’t have to pretend to be unbothered by the pressure when he races his friends to the bottom of a swimming pool. You can see it in the little girl who wades into every stream she sees on a hike without quite knowing why.
You can see the blood of sirens in people who never have a problem with getting people to date them. You can see it in that soprano who can hit notes most of her fellows can only dream of. You can see it in the camp counselor who all the straight girls have a crush on, who can play guitar and sing better than any of the others.
You can see the blood of shapeshifters in the way an actor adjusts their personality to become their character with scary accuracy. You can see it in the subconscious, barely noticeable changes a tween girl’s eyes make to match her outfit better. You can see it in the way you always lose that one friend in a crowd if you’re not careful, because he’s just too good at blending in.
People who carry the blood of werewolves don’t change with the full moon anymore, but you can still see it in the way your best friend always knows something is wrong, though even they don’t know they’re smelling the changes in your body chemistry. You can see it in the way that one guy always seems to eat more than the reasonable amount of red meat at an all-you-can-eat buffet. You can see it in the way that one werido never has a problem when the teacher turns off the lights before a PowerPoint presentation because her eyes adjust quicker and better than yours.
The blood of supernatural creatures may have mostly faded away. But if you look closely, you can still see it.
no but im soft for the way all the members sat down and watched jk perform
not in the mood for this (everything)
Every now and then, people ask me if I should go to art school, and I usually say something like “Do you want to go to art school?” and if they say “Yes,” then I say “Yes,” and if they say “No,” then I say “Don’t.” This is why I am a crappy source of career advice.
However.
There is ONE class that I think nearly every writer, artist, and creative type out there would benefit from, and as it happens, it’s ceramics. Preferably with a strong wheel-throwing component.
No, really.
Back in ceramics class, in college, at the end of the year we would gather up all our dishes and pots and sculptures that we had labored over for weeks—and you really do labor for weeks, because you’re sculpting and drying and firing and glazing and firing again—and we would look at them. And what we generally realized was that we had created a lot of things that sucked. There is just a point where you hold this lumpy-ass thing in your hand and you realize that it has not added to the sum total of awesome in the universe—and that you don’t have to keep it. And then you wind up and fling it into the massive dumpster behind the ceramics studio and it smashes against the bottom and a demented exhilaration surges through you and you grab the next one and smash it and it is glorious. Now, there are people who do not smash their failed work, who cannot bear to do it, and so there was always a shelf full of sad lumpy clay things with a little “free to good home” sign on it. Some of them possibly were adopted eventually. Mostly, though, we learned to smash. Pottery, particularly wheel-throwing, is wonderful for this, incidentally. You fail over and over and you fail fast and you are creating quantity to lead to quality. You throw and throw and throw and things die on the wheel and things die when you take them off the wheel and things explode in the kiln and after you have made a dozen or two dozen or a thousand, none of them are precious any more. There is always more clay.
It breaks you of preciousness and perfectionism. You can’t fiddle for two hours with wet clay on the wheel getting it perfect. It’ll be an over-saturated lump of mud long before then. If the walls are thrown too thin, they are too thin. It’s not worth fixing. Start over. Do it again. Finish, don’t fiddle. I can’t do pottery any more because if I tried to hunch over a wheel these days, my back would go out so hard that I would never walk upright again. But I still think it was one of the most valuable classes I ever took, because it taught me to acknowledge failure, not to fear it, and then smash the hell out of it.
New Bollywood movie to add to the list of Bollywood movie that have utterly destroyed my heart, made me question existence, and fed my soul an array of beautiful emotions and a story for the ages : Kalank.
No, seriously, I'm gonna need a minute here, guys.
This film is ridiculously gorgeous, I mean, the outfits? The sets? The choreography? The lightning and the colours? I'm. I'm speechless. Why is this film so beautiful.
I love the songs, First Class is one of the first Bollywood song I've heard, and one of the first Arijit Singh's song, and I actually had no idea it was from the movie. Ghar More Pardesiya has beautiful lyrics, Kalank is cute and heartbreaking, Tabaah Ho Gaye made me cry... I'm adding the entire album to my list of albums I actually listen to in their entirety, which is a very short list.
Can I sing Alia and Varun's praises again? I know that's three movies of theirs in a row, but what can I say, when ou recognize talent, there's only one thing to do, scream about it to everyone willing (and unwilling) to listen to you go raving mad. Right, but seriously, Varun in this movie? With that hair and the khol eyes? The way he acts with his eyes in a way very reminiscing of Shah Rukh Khan and that the only other current Bollywood actor I've seen acting so well is Ranveer Singh? I swear I forget to breath when he's looking like that.
Alia and Madhuri Dixit ma'am's scenes together were fantastic, the raw beauty and power of these women, the sheer emotions they can make you feel with one look, one tilt of the head, one barely there smile...
And I haven't even talked about the story itself yet, but yeah. Love and hatred, vengeance and destruction, until it becomes the destruction of your own self, until hatred becomes love and love becomes hatred and you don't know anymore who you are, what you want, what you stand for... It is one of my favourite kind of stories, after all, love and destruction as the two sides of the same coin is a never-ending well of inspiration and motifs.
Anyway. That was an absolutely fascinating, mesmerizing and heartbreaking almost-three-hours of my life.
jimin gets it cr. dwellingsouls
so when are we gonna do the ride?
cr. BRILLER__613
cleaning:
self-care/hygiene:
exercise:
studying:
So um I've never done this before but I have a theory about Macbeth that I really wanted to get more opinions on☺️.
So basically many people already know about how Macbeth may have PTSD and I want to take that further by saying that Banquo also had PTSD and they both hallucinated the witches.
First of all only these 2 characters were said to have had any interactions with the witches, so taking that what if these witches were only saying what Macbeth and Banquo wanted to hear. As in their deep inner thoughts. It is hinted that Macbeth would have loved to be king so it is possible that the witches were the bit inside if him that was his greed (I'm sorry idk how to explain this very well) and also this would not have been the only time Macbeth hallucinated, the dagger if the mind and Banquo at the banquet scene. So I see nothing against them being hallucinations especially if it is confirmed that he could've imagined humans during the banquet scene. Also little bit that during the banquet scene Lady Macbeth says that this is an old sickness from childhood and even though it's just an excuse it still goes so why not.
Now with Banquo he had a great heart so despite the fact that he didn't get to be king but his son does, he takes no action on the matter unlike Macbeth. So he also could've wanted that deep down.
It is also hinted that Lady Macbeth has lost a child and I think that it could have had some sort of mental illness too.
According to this random website I found online she had symptoms similar to PTSD so she could also be hallucinating or not in her right mind. We see this where she says "Out damned spot..." trying to get the non-existent blood out of her hands. Also it says guilt. Guilt that she felt after killing King Duncan. This probably really messed her up (as we saw) and might have been the overload that caused her to die (cuz we don't know the real reason).
So yeah that's my theory. Um, I'm not really sure what I was trying to prove but yeah.
fitting that the single most famous Hollywood landmark is literally just a sign that says HOLLYWOOD in huge obtrusive letters. of course the most self-obsessed culture on the planet is obsessed with their own name. utterly shameless, love that energy
jungkook wanting to explain why his head is big 😆