Blegh - Tumblr Posts
For shows being proud of and celebrating its diversity, Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss lack a lot of... diversity...
For shows being proud of and celebrating its diversity, Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss lack a lot of... diversity...
zest fest
drawing I made on my school computer lmao
Me too
Wish me luck, men… I don’t think I can be brave about this one..
People on this website will really mock anti-vaxxers and flat earthers for ignoring scientists and getting their alternative facts from facebook, and then turn around and insist they know more history than historians and more archaeology than archaeologists because they read an unsourced tumblr post once
you FUCKERS
On Luck and CTY
in which I don't write about the end of the year really or how much I miss the seniors and instead ramble about people in English and me and my awesome life
[tl;dr I'm really, really, lucky and haven't really had anything happen in my life, as opposed to a lot of the people at my school and such. But, my life is still pretty seriously defined by cty. This may or may not be a problem.]
No but seriously. I'm not being facetious. Our last assignment in English was to compile a college essay portfolio, comsisting of a few essays written to admission prompts, plus a tree metaphor about ourself and anything else we choose to decorate it with, really. One of the essays was just a broad personal statement, one was on a prompt of our choice, one was in response to "What do you carry?" a la The Things They Carried, and so on. The last thing we had to do is pick one essay from our portfolio to be graded on, polish it, then read it to the class. So here's the thing.
People have some seriously heavy things they're carrying.
Almost everyone's essays are really good. But some of them almost have no option other than being good, because of the stories people have behind them. I already knew the mother of one of my close friends had passed away when she was nine, and I had heard about a couple of other people, but what everyone revealed was astounding. We heard about two parents dying, we heard about the pain of divorce, we learned about a favorite horse being murdered, we heard about living with a father diagnosed as mentally insane, and we heard about rape. We're not even done. People broke down reading their essays, our teacher cried multiple times, and people cried listening to them.
It was amazing to hear because sometimes I just don't realize, at all, how much the people around me have to deal with, every single day. I am honestly blessed (knock on wood). Honestly the only pressure I deal with is that of high expectations and ambitious dreams, but even those are all mine. My parents are more supportive than I could ever imagine, and the expectations I deal with are entirely mine, not theirs or anyone elses. But listening to some of these people's essays I've been forced to think that honestly, what I am is lucky. I don't know that kind of pain. I don't know what it's like to be truly depressed, not just upset. I don't know what it's like to deal with the death of a family member closer than a grandparent. I don't know what it's like to think I'm fat (kind of independent of my weight). I don't know what it's like to hate myself. I don't know what it's like to really, really hate my parents. I don't know what it's like to live paycheck to paycheck. I don't know what it's like to starve. So I wrote my essay on my personal vernacular and how I talk kind of messily and people laughed and it was good an stuff. It's just that I thought, I just don't have that kind of emotional or painful connection to anything. I can't point to what changed me forever. I can't name a day that changed my life.
But then I realized, Oh yes. I can. 08.07.09, the Day the Music Died, actually might be the most defining single day of my life I can remember. Or, if not that day than one within those three weeks. I mean, people get carried away with pctyd and I know that and I know it's seriously time to move on (come on it's been two years), but the thing is, CTY actually was that important of a part of my life. I like to think I'm not as unrealistic as to look back on everything with rosy glasses and assume everything was perfect, because it wasn't. But even raging and crying and about life and Life with a best froommate (friend + roommate. heheh) was fantastic. I can't really talk about how CTY made my life better. Like how it made me confident. How I suddenly got to be proud for loving my country and its history. How discussions became my favorite thing in the world. How I learned how to swear. How I learned that being good at school and being proud of it isn't a bad thing. How I met the most brilliant people I know. How I got good at trench and great at ratscrew. How I met my first boyfriend. How I got to rap like a pro. How I felt mainstream for once in my life. How I lived in a dorm. How I've never associated as much emotion with any song or inanimate object as I do with canon. How all the clearest memory-pictures that I take in my head when I know I need to remember something are all from cty. How I ran faster than I ever had before at the End of the World As We Know it.
So, awesome. I love my life, don't get me wrong. I'll just have to figure out how to define my life by something other than two years of nerd camp. Also on my to-so list is figuring out how I can share my luck and happiness and luck because there are people who deserve it a hell of a lot more than I do.
Death by eyebrow... *blegh*
this sketch just screams thot and I'm so sorry
Ayy, we're kind of expanding our skills
Minor rant in the tags if anyone wants self drama
Watch me mess up both designs and anatomy with rizelle, oof
