I Think Whats On A Persons Nightstand Is Very Telling So Reblog This And Put In The Tags The Things You

i think what’s on a person’s nightstand is very telling so reblog this and put in the tags the things you have on your nightstand

One time I was explaining to my dad how unfair it is that every big city has at least a couple gay bars but there are only like 20ish lesbian bars left in the country and he responded with "That's cause gay men have a good party culture. Lesbians don't have time to party, they're too busy debating the sociological implications of things and studying for postgrad degrees" and as much as I wanted to tell him he was out of line for that, as a lesbian who spends all her free time on Tumblr debating sociological implications and messaging other lesbians in discord servers where everyone has a PhD or masters for some reason I felt like I might not be the best person to make that argument

I felt this way when people began to talk about how helpful ChatGPT was to write essays and stuff like that. I've wanted to be a writer for as long as I can remember but never felt like I was good enough to ever show my works to anyone, and hearing everyone praise an algorithm made me feel completely worthless.

I'm so sorry you feel this way and I can assure you, no one, especially not a computer, will be able to replicate what you do and how you transpose your view of the world into art. I hope you get your passion back and I hope that big companies stop using AI art for their purposes instead of actually crediting artists for their work.

AI is making me so fucking sad and angry and hopeless feeling, my best coping method has been completely devalued and stolen from me and I want to punch someone. I feel like this will be the start of another huge downward spiral for humanity, because who'll bother to create when computers can "create" for you with a fraction of the time and effort? But AI can't create, only recycle, and when we stop creating it'll run out of things to recycle and that's where all of us will stagnate.

I have drawn maybe two sketches in a month, I used to draw daily and make fully rendered shit, but it's like all my passion has been sucked out of me and I have absolutely no desire to create anymore because creating seems worthless.

Okay fuck it if this post reaches 666k notes by the end of 2023 I'll practise basic self care

Why 666k? Because it's funny and impossible so good fucking luck

can you imagine how wild the whole of gale and tav's romance is from gale's perspective?

you keep secrets. shameful, terrible secrets. youre dying. every step is just a little bit harder than the last. youre a disgrace. if people didnt look at you with disdain, they were looking at you with pity. and youve got nobody to blame but yourself.

every moment, youre expecting the other shoe to drop, for tav to finally say enough -- you wouldn't hold it against them, youre more trouble than youre worth -- but then...?

it doesnt matter what it is. magical item consumption with no reason given. an awkward exit from an imagined kiss shared in the cradle of your ex's palm. revealing you could kill yourself, them, and everybody in a city-wide radius. defending you against one of your most powerful colleagues because he came baring mystra's will. dissauding you at every turn, to stay alive, to ignore a goddess's orders, because they think youre worth the space you take up. loving you ardently, hastily, easily, as though you have anything to offer them back. staying with you as you oscillate between self-destruction and ascension. never once stepping away from your side, even as the stabilised orb burns in your chest, begging to be used, and the crown, almost within reach, taunts you with your wildest dreams.

and that's just it, isnt it? you have the chance to give tav everything they could ever want at last, after so long of being a burden, and they tell you no. they tell you no. i want you.

you, the burden? you, the disgrace?

yes, you.

gale falling in love with tav wasn't like how the great novels describe. there wasnt any one moment that led to a grand realisation. there were no great leaps of faith toward each other.

falling in love with tav was like a warm candlelight and an even warmer hand in an endless void of black.

falling in love with tav was a gentle tug, a smile, and a 'this way.'

how could he not follow?