Stream Of Consciousness - Tumblr Posts

A love letter

Watching news is like adding a few more numbers to the body count.

Thousands, millions, billions, a few hundred - Is there a difference when only a few lives are something more than a number to you?

If you saw a face and heard a name and the name of their favourite tv show every time there was a gunshot or a heartbeat flatlining.

Would that drive you insane or would you say bless you to John Doe as you continue to unload the dishwasher?

I always hated the word "damage control". There are few words that say "doom" quite as clearly, yet we subscribe to it from the moment we are enter the world.

The damage has been done, but we say a kind word to an aging parent and buy recycable bags, hoping it will be enough for us to feel clean, but clean is a silly thing people invented to explain why they want to scrub their skin off every time they come home from work.

But you tend to forget you came here through a vulva, sweat and blood, the pollen for the bees and shit for the flies, silk that larvae make, equally a golden ichor of life, for nothing is dirtier than the life itself, in a million ways, a million gifts we'll sadly never understand.

I used to dream of dying young, unable to handle the thought of deterioration, because death is clean, it leaves nothing behind but your image preserved in formaline like a bizzare mutation people gawk at in a museum.

Am I selfish? Would it make any difference? Will you be proud of me? We are fascinated with tragic death because it is the ultimate act of immortalization, but we fail to realize that a nuclear bomb, too, leaves traces of itself in the world for a thousand years to come and people to say "what a pity it had to explode".

Right now, I don't want to die, and maybe it's not much, but it's enough for now. I'm still holding hands with Death, but I'm trying to understand life, too. If I manage to understand, will I be able to love it? I reach out my hand hesitantly, every day, sometimes getting bitten, sometimes getting carresed, but it still hasn't destroyed me, so maybe it's a testimony.

Anyway, how did you do it? How did you manage?

Rewarding and Challenging.

This job is exhausting.

I have spent multiple nights up until 2am planning, finding just the right exercises, wondering when a video would help and if they're understanding the content I'm showing them, worrying if the questions I've prepared to test their understanding are fair, questioning if I'm working too hard on grammar or not hard enough, stressing out over if they actually understand why/how we use modals, does the vocab I send them for reference actually increase their vocab recognition, are they overwhelmed or are they feeling unchallenged, am I helping, for the love of fuck am I helping?

My mother warned me about this.

16

I think I’m finally starting to relax. 
It was such a simple day, 
but it was beautiful. 

I took a walk in the park, 
and had a great time 
playing a silly game, 
and forgetting to care 
about a thing. 

I got stung by a hornet 
for the first time, 
and I could have complained, 
but I thought it was pretty cool. 

Firsts are neat. 

I ate junk food 
and breathed deeply 
and took a selfie with a hawk 
that landed in a tree 
without leaves 
and barely any limbs. 

It almost seemed like 
it was posing for a picture. 

I went home, 
and I wasn’t tense, 
and I wasn’t stressed, 
and the noise didn’t bother me, 
too much. 

I’m starting to let go 
of everything holding me back. 
I don’t want to worry anymore. 
I want to sleep deeply, 
and wake up feeling restored. 

I want to write without caring 
why I’m doing it. 

You know 
I questioned if I should even 
be writing poetry anymore, 
last night? 

I feel like I haven’t been 
enjoying it like I used to. 
Like it’s just a chore, 
or something I’m doing 
purely because I feel like 
that’s what I’m supposed to do. 

Maybe my real passion is conversation. 
But, I think, when the words flow freely 
and with that certain kind of eloquence 
I only find in isolated moments of silence, 
when the mind decides to sing instead of speak, 
I experience true magic. 

The current passes through me, 
in that wisping instant. 
I’m stolen away to a place 
of solace and safety. 

I’m left feeling energized and nourished, 
but suddenly aware of a thirst that 
I’d never realized I needed to quench 
until I wrote that specific poem. 

So maybe purpose 
has nothing to do 
with passion. 

Maybe people are beautiful, 
and small moments of grace 
keep me loving life, and 
breathing it in and 
becoming through my experiences. 

I’m certainly passionate about sharing 
an aspect of the world with myself; 
ingesting it, and incorporating it into me. 

Living as a culmination of memory and energy 
passed through so many different beings 
and incarnations of something 
that is ultimately formless; 
that will always inspire me. 

And contemplating that inexpressible fact, 
of what is nebulous yet ever present, 
is the thread that ties me to fate. 

But poetry is something, I think, 
that is written on my heart 
to sustain my soul. 

It’s a sort of inscription or incantation, 
invoking the very essence of my existence. 
And that isn’t to say I am a poet 
because I write poetry. 

What I’m saying is that I write poetry 
because the emotion of life is distilled 
through my soul and causes my heart to swell 
until it bursts. 

I am sodden with the ichor of existence. 
Sometimes living hurts, 
but nothing is more real 
than loving it, anyway.

not hot enough for sex work not entertaining enough for streaming just unqualified enough to shout my intrusive thoughts at a handful of strangers on the tumblr

👀 *Alligator clips a car battery to Zim’s PAK when he’s not looking to see what happens*

Imagine getting held up or kidnapped by a vampire and then they just start calmly putting leeches on you

I love that Zim video you’ve posted it’s one of my favorite shows of all time keep that up homie💖💗🫶🏻

I know not if you refer to this one or that one but happy to serve~ Next on my list is a Dib getting hurt highlight reel. Long story short I feel way too powerful ever since I learned how to clip from YouTube.

Lying awake at night and grinning like a cheeky imp at how ironically Powerman 5000’s “How To Be A Human” would make for an absurdly appropriate mv about Irken Society actually

Errrggh I needs more brain fodder I needs compost for the worms I need submitted questions about Irken or other alien biology I haven’t yet tried to answer in some way already

It’s almost the time of the year for me to go wasp queen hunting again so that and my new pest control job has me fixating so hard on arthropod stuff again. It’s like spring fever but for info dumping about eusocial nuisance animals up in here.

Know something wrong with me cause I woke up at 6 AM this morning and had a vision of this same sequence as a damn bowling alley spare screen (bloated ass Zim being the ball and Dib being a pin)

I always loved this specific expression of his for no particular reason it’s just so effing funny

It’s the most little cartoon guy face. Everything and nothing is going on in that head at the same time.

Laughing to myself because I’m trying to go to sleep but when my eyes close my brain keeps mockingly forcing me to imagine that “why is everyone so mean to me 💔” meme image except it’s Invader Skoodge and his square frog-ass-looking ass

Rainworld 5 Pebbles animation but it’s that Smiling Friends scene of Charlie punching that one demon (Jeremy) in Hell.

Too late. I’m already storyboarding it.

Imogen Heap’s “Neglected Space” but it’s Looks to the Moon “Neglected Space” but it’s Moon and the Downpour slugcat procession “Neglected Space” but it’s literally her it’s literally a song from the POV of a sentient crumbling house no longer inhabited that nature begins to reclaim HOW hasn’t anyone in this fandom (to my knowledge) done something with this yet?

i wish i could be a full time playlist maker

go play my life chapterly playlist !

Yeeessss, this is perfect, haha :) I mean, in the second case, I’m pretty sure Jim would re-arrest the heck out of Ed regardless of Oswald’s lack of testimony, but that first scenario is beautiful and I can 100% see Ed doing a super dramatic reveal exactly like that.

I ramble about my feelings on the end of Gotham (and shows ending generally) below the cut...

I’m so not ready for Gotham to end, though. I still haven’t seen last Thursday’s episode, and tomorrow is opening night of the play I’m in so I won’t be able to watch tomorrow’s episode, either (not that I would watch out of order, but like, I could catch up tonight... but also I’m super tired between work and rehearsals and everything, and I don’t want to rush one of the only two remaining episodes of this show I’ve been obsessed with going on a year now). But... urgggh, this is that thing I always run into where I have trouble letting a show go. I so often wind up saving the last 1-4 episodes of a show I love because it’s just hard to finish it, to not have it anymore. I’ve seen all but the last couple of episodes of White Collar, Leverage, Psych, A Series of Unfortunate Events... It’s a thing I do.

But the trouble with Gotham in particular is, well, now I’m on tumblr. I haven’t been able to scroll through my dashboard in a week since the last episode aired and I’m trying not to spoil myself. I did open it a time or two, just to glance at it; just tonight I caught a glimpse of a gifset of Os and Ed hugging after Oswald’s eye wound (which I’ve known about for quite a while from the bts pics, interviews, and trailers) but the hug gave me FEEEELLS and I haven’t even seen the episode and I’m not ready but also I want to see it? Uggh once this play is over I’m just going to have to watch the last two episodes, if only so I can safely use tumblr again.

And also, I know this saving thing doesn’t actually make more of a show I love exist. In a way, I like the idea that there’s something more there for me to go back to, but like, in a way I’m depriving myself of part of the story. I know I should just watch the last episodes of things, but it’s so hard to let things go... I’m a hoarder in so many ways, including of unwatched final episodes, I suppose. But yeah, I’ll have to watch Gotham so I can go back to looking at tumblr other than in my old drafts and likes, I suppose.

Well, and I also know that I’ll enjoy a thing best if I consume it while it’s still in an active obsession cycle. Although, my obsession cycle with Gotham has been semi-dormant for a while since I ran out of binging to do, so I’m not the closest to it I’ve ever been, but it’s still giving me feels, so I should watch it.

This has been: I talk myself into watching the end of Gotham some time in the near future. We’ll see if I listen.

But anyways, if you see me on tumblr looking at spoilers tomorrow remind me to stop!! Haha. I have a huge backlog of drafts to process anywho. I should be working through those.

And also wish me broken limbs! Almost, Maine opens tomorrow!!

And, happy end of Gotham, to those witnessing it tomorrow. I hope it’s a good one...

Oswald and Edward; married in the time jump.

Stay with me. Oswald and Edward are seen working together in the time jump. If Gotham is going to suggest that they have been operating as criminals, doing illegal stuff together for years, wouldn't it make sense that the two of them would have exploited the heck out of Marital Privilege? The law that protects the confidential communications between spouses during their marriage from being used as a testimonial in a court case? Meaning that one can never be forced to rat out the other? What a dramatic reveal that would be. 

___________________________________________________________

Imagine it. After lying low for months, Oswald Cobblepot resurfaces and puts a grand scheme in motion. The GCPD knows its Oswald, so they grab The Riddler to question him because he likely knows all about said plan.

Riddler is in the cold interrogation room, all pristine in his green suit, bowler hat and leather gloves. Completely relaxed and in his element. Jim slams some files on the table and goes through how they know Edward knows what Oswald is up to.

All the while Riddler has this shit eating grin as he loosens his gloves, one finger at a time, as he listens to what Jim is saying.

“While I would love to help you out, Jim…” Riddler begins as he places his arm upright on the table, so his hand is almost eve level with Jim. A bit unnecessary but it allows him to be as dramatic as possible as he removes his left glove with a flourish to reveal a gold ring on his ring finger. “I’m afraid you can’t legally force me to testify against my… Husband.”

___________________________________________________________

“I don’t suppose you know anything about The Riddlers most recent escape from Arkham…?” a tired Jim deadpans to Oswald in the middle of a high-end restaurant, where the Riddler is blatantly seated across from Oswald. Martini in hand, smugly leading back in his chair, still in his stripped Arkham robes just to rub it in.

“I’m afraid I legally can’t say Jim” Oswald replies with mock sincerity.

“How do you come up with this shit!?” they say as if I’m not one of the most clinically insane people they’ve ever met.

Yes babe I know you said you still love me 5 mins ago but that was then and your perception of me has OBVIOUSLY changed so now I don’t believe you♥️

My favourite cockblock is horrors beyond human comprehension