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â§âŚâ§ âFragmentsâ - episode 14 â§âŚâ§
Yes an entire episode just to show the turbulent mix of things that Exarch feels after finally pulling that 5* heâd spent a century saving up for (it was a pity roll)
thancred canât really catch a break, can he
I didnât forget to draw the gold bits on the exarchâs hood in the second frame, I merely reached in there and ripped them out myself with my teeth
emotional text dump ahead:
on tuesday of last week I was diagnosed with Crohn's disease. my doctor ordered a fuckload of bloodwork, including one test I had to drive an hour to have done, a stool test, and an MRI. he also prescribed me two of the safest, most widely used, most reliable meds for ibd.
now, I'm nowhere near as sick as most people. I have a lot of pain and fatigue, but I can eat normally and I'm not bleeding internally. but I'm still sick. I've had pain so severe I can't breathe. and to be honest, I wanted the doctor to tell me it was all in my head, because maybe if it was my anxiety or my depression I could fix that and thereby fix my stomach. maybe if I found the right therapy and the right meds, I could get my life back.
that's not on the table anymore.
I feel like a failure for being sick. I feel ungrateful because I know I'm so much better off than so many people, but I'm still angry, and sad, and scared. I hate my new pill bottles even though they might make me better. they look like having to maybe leave my career to get a job with insurance, or like having to marry someone before I'm ready to be on their insurance. they look like having to meticulously plan if and when I have kids once I know if I want them. they look like learning that some drugs cost hundreds of dollars a month and aren't covered by my plan. they look like having three pill organizers to go with my six bottles of pills.
six months ago i took zero pills daily. as of next week i'll be taking twelve. not counting my vitamins, so actually more like fifteen.
I'm stressed, and I'm angry, mostly at myself, and I'm exhausted. I cry too easily and I'm not being fair to the people around me. I get snippy or scared at the drop of a hat, or cry for no reason. I think about hurting myself. the longer this testing thing has been going on, the more casually my brain brings up literal suicide or maiming. I don't think I ever would hurt myself like that, but...I don't know?
I was using a pair of shears to prune a bush a couple weeks ago. finished up, headed back to the house. my brother brought the puppy out the meet me, and it sent the most horrible shock up my spine when I met his eyes and realized i had the shears up to my neck, over the big vein on my right side, just kind of squeezing and releasing again and again. it would be so easy to just snip that vein. not even a particularly bad way to go. I wasn't even really thinking about it, until he saw me and I realized...I don't know. how ashamed I would be if I made him see that, I guess.
I wouldn't kill myself because I know if I did I would only make it harder on my family, but that doesn't make me happier. that doesn't make me feel safe or healthy or not afraid. I hurt myself in little ways, ways people never notice. I lie to my doctor and my therapist and my mom because I don't know how to tell them I'm not okay without making me hate myself more. this has been happening for a while.
and now I've got this expensive, incurable, mysterious disease.
I don't have the bandwidth for any of this.
I'm going to call my doctor tomorrow and have them raise the dose on my antidepressants. I don't want to be alive, but I don't want to kill myself more
how much of a failure of a human am I that I can only articulate this shit in the one place I can be relatively sure no one will respond or could trace it back to me if they did want to help?
so my antidepressants seem to be working for the feels problems but not any of the physical shit my doctor said was based in the feels and idk if thatâs an insufficient time problem or likeâŚblergleâŚiâm still so tiredâŚ
ha ha they're not working for the physical shit because the physical shit is goddamn ulcers in my colon ha ha

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as a straight girl I do feel a modicum of envy towards particularly lesbians but also to some extend gay guys, or maybe just non-cis-het people in general, because while I love my SO and he's actually super supportive and we can sit and play Zelda together for hours before getting pizza and snickering at each other's beer farts, there's also a lot of like...teaching him about emotional openness and things like the burden of conversation and how his actions convey meaning that as a white cishet man from the midwest he's never had to deal with before. we've had some really significant conversations about privilege and communication and what makes certain things he enjoys problematic, but also how you deal with knowing something is problematic and decide how to go forward with it. he wants to learn and he's open to listening, but it's kind of tiring sometimes, and it makes me sad when I see that some heteronormy idea he's clinging to is making him unhappy. I feel like in the LGBTQ+ community there's at least more of an awareness that preconceived notions may be wrong, that internalized prejudice can hurt yourself as well as others, and I feel like emotional freedom is way more highly prized.
This Meta is For You, Too
When marginalized people have analyses and theories about a text - be it a show, a movie, a book, or anything - those analyses are not âclosedâÂ
Any analysis based in the text is not a headcanon, itâs just a valid textual interpretation. And we create these interpretations, these âmetaâ as Iâll refer to them hereonout, not just for us. We see ourselves in the text, we see our own experience reflected back at us, and we want to share that.Â
When someone says âI identify with Crowley, because he questions G-d constantly, and is wrestling with the Devine Plan,â and our response is âWe clearly identify Crowley as Jewish, because Wrestling and Questioning are Extremely Jewish traits,â*Â
The proper response is not to ignore that. The response is to recognize that you have something in common with the Jewish experience!Â
We create these meta and these explanations not just for us. For other people, it shows what our culture is like. It shows what itâs like to be a member of X group. It is for learning, and for sharing, and for spreading.Â
I see people reblogging tons of theories about characters that theyâre a certain type of queer, or part of a disability community, or what have you - and those theories being spread by non-members of said communities. For example, ace headcanons, spread by non-aces. And thatâs great! Thatâs wonderful! I partake in that (as a queer, disabled person) myself!Â
But I donât see it happen a lot with Jewish headcanons - as if thereâs a reluctance on the part of non-Jews to label anyone as Jewish who isnât explicitly said to be. And, in this day and age of extreme antisemitism, that is dangerous. It perpetuates the idea that we are âotherâ, that unless itâs obvious someoneâs Jewish, they canât possibly be, because they pass as a non-Jew. You are perpetuating antisemitism, in a very subtle and non-conscious way, by not treating Jewish meta the same as other meta.Â
And maybe you donât understand stuff. Isnât that great???? Learning is AMAZING. I, personally, WELCOME every chance I get to learn something new! So you had to google what a Ketubah is, or the idea that all Jewish souls were present at Sinai. Thatâs amazing! Now youâve learned something new!!! Iâm so happy for you!!Â
Itâs not appropriation to reblog and spread these theories like you do any other meta on Good Omens, or any other fandom. Itâs appreciation, and itâs allyship. Maybe not the most important allyship, but allyship nonetheless - and, certainly, enough of a low effort one that you should be able to do it.Â
Partake with us, friends. Appreciate that we are able to see ourselves in the text. Celebrate our commonalities. Reblog our metas, our fanfictions, our fanarts. Engage with every interpretation of the text, even if itâs not one you subscribe to. Youâll be amazed at what you learn, what you appreciate - and how you grow as a person, from doing so.Â
*Yes, I know Good Omens is about Christian mythology. We all know that. Itâs kind of hard to miss. Doesnât it say something about Good Omens that we still see itâs Jewish influence (from Neil Gaiman, who wrote it and is Jewish)? Maybe, before you bring up complaints and simple contradictions to these interpretations, consider that we have, in fact, thought of that - and wonder why we still have these theories.Â
Jews and non-Jews should reblog this. Thatâs kind of the point.Â
some man online: âaryaâs a mary sue. reyâs a mary sue. i simply donât believe a young girl could be that skilled.â
what they expect me to say: âwell, no, actually, canon supports it, because if you look back as far as season three, sheâs been training forââ
what iâm actually gonna say: âgood. good. about fucking time. in the next movie i hope rey blows up a dreadnought with finger lightning that she learned earlier that day. i hope she rips palpatineâs spine out with her bare hands while everybody clapsâ
#im not taking comments unless theyâre more fantasies about rey riding a droid pegasus and becoming space president ( @robotmango )
#âthis is just pandering -â WELL ITâS ABOUT GODDAMN TIME SUNNY JIM#THEYâVE PANDERED TO YOU FOR DECADES#NOW THEY PANDER TO ME
WHO is going to have a subtextually homoerotic swordfight with me that stems from our major unresolved sexual tension
The World Health Organization is going to do what?!

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@muslimfinn
After this week, this gives me faith
heâs mirroring! cats do that to be social thatâs also why they will lie on laptops or books. they want to do what their humans are doing because they enjoy being in the same room and socializing that way. getting him his own prayer mat was a really good idea bc now he gets to mirror without being in the way!
The other thing is that cats have a very good sense of time and tend to like regular schedules. If OPâs family members pray every day at the same times, in the same place, the cat knows the drill and probably considers this an official Household Activity which requires Feline Supervision.
Halal kitty
This cat is Muslim and thereâs nothing anyone can do about that
Rb to pet Muslim kitty
Reasons why I like tumblr
1. None of my family is on here
2. Barely anyone in my life knows the website even exists.
3. employers wonât ask for my tumblr handle
4. Can post into the void and no one will read it
5. Memes
6. Gay
7. Recipes
Stop taking people with dementia to the cemetery
âOh yeah, every time that dad forgets mom is dead, we head to the cemetery so he can see her gravestone.â
WHAT. I canât tell you how many times Iâve heard some version of this awful story. Stop taking people with dementia to the cemetery. Seriously. I cringe every single time someone tells me about their âplanâ to remind a loved one that their loved one is dead.
I also hear this a lot:Â âI keep reminding mom that her sister is dead, and sometimes she recalls it once Iâve said it.â Thatâs still not a good thing. Why are we trying to force people to remember that their loved ones have passed away?
If your loved one with dementia has lost track of their timeline, and forgotten that a loved one is dead, donât remind them. Whatâs the point of reintroducing that kind of pain? Hereâs the thing: they will forget again, and they will ask again. Youâre never, ever, ever, going to âconvinceâ them of something permanently.Â
Instead, do this:
âDad, where do you think mom is?â
When he tells you the answer, repeat that answer to him and assert that it sounds correct. For example, if he says, âI think mom is at work,â say, âYes, that sounds right, I think she must be at work.â If he says, âI think she passed away,â say, âYes, she passed away.âÂ
People like the answer that they gave you. Also, it takes you off the hook to âcome up with somethingâ that satisfies them. Then, twenty minutes later, when they ask where mom is, repeat what they originally told you.
I support this sentiment. Repeatedly reminding someone with faulty memory that a loved one has died isnât a kindness, itâs a cruelty. They have to relieve the loss every time, even if they donât remember the grief 15 minutes later.
In other words, donât try to impose your timeline on them in order to make yourself feel better. Correcting an afflicted dementia patient will not cure them. They wonât magically return to your âreal worldâ. No matter how much you might want them to.
Itâs a kindness of old age, forgetting. Life can be very painful. Donât be the one ripping off the bandage every single time.
I used to work as a companion in a nursing home where one of the patients was CONVINCED I was her sister, whoâd died 40 years earlier. And every time one of the nurses said âthatâs not Janet, Janet is dead, Alice, remember?â Alice would start sobbing.
So finally one day Alice did the whole âJANET IS HEREâ and this nurse rather nastily went âJanet is deadâ and before it could go any further I said âexcuse me??? How dare you say something so horrible to my sister?â
The nurse was pissed, because I was âfeeding Aliceâs delusions.â Alice didnât have delusions. Alice had Alzheimerâs.
But I made sure it went into Aliceâs chart that she responded positively to being allowed to believe I was Janet. And from that point forward, only my specific patient referred to me as âNinaâ in front of Aliceâeveryone else called me Janet, and when Alice said my name wasnât Nina I just said âoh, itâs a nickname, thatâs all.â It kept her calm and happy and not sobbing every time she saw me.
It costs zero dollars (and maybe a little bit of fast thinking) to not be an asshole to someone with Alzheimerâs or dementia. Be kind.
I wish I had heard this stuff when Grandma was still here.
I read once that you have to treat dementia patients more like itâs improv, like you have to take what they say and say to yourself âok, andâ and give them more of a story to occupy them and not just shut it down with something super harsh.
A nurse I used to work with always told us: âIf a man with dementia is trying to get out of bed to go to work, donât tell him heâs 90 and in a nursing home. Tell him itâs Sunday and he can stay in bed. If a woman with dementia is trying to stand because she wants to get her husbandâs dinner out of the oven, donât tell her heâs been dead for 20 years. Tell her youâll do it for her and she can sit back down.â
Always remembered that, always did it. Nothing worse than hearing someone with memory loss ask the same question over and over again only to be met with: âWe already told you!â
Just tell them again.
Iâve worked with elderly dementia patients, and I agree with all the above. Treat them as youâd like to be treated in the same situation.
Same. Iâve worked with patients like these and even my grandma was convinced for a day that I was my aunt. Just roll with it.
Having worked with memory patients, all of this. I'll never forget an eighty-five year old woman crying at her dinner table in my dining hall because she thought her mom (dead for something like thirty years) would call her before dinner. She was begging us to take her to the nursing station so she could call. Finally we convinced her that her mom couldn't come to the phone right now since she was busy eating her own dinner. By the time the meal was over she'd forgotten that she wanted to call her mom and was calm again. She had chocolate ice cream for dessert. I remember wheeling her back to her room after and she gave me such a sweet smile when we said goodnight.
Talk to people in the language they can understand. Use their framework.
I gotta say, I kind of hate my Facebook feed because a lot of my friends are performers (as am I, I suppose) but they're all go-getters and also healthy and attractive and subsidized by well-off parents, so they're all posting about this summer festival and that young artist program, and how amazing the last few years have been, bright future, etc, etc, and meanwhile I'm sitting here having a quarter life crisis, struggling with the decision to up my meds or not, and getting diagnosed with IBD while unemployed and literally being a stay at home dog mom and housekeeper. I'm not sure whether I hate myself or my intestines more, tbh.
Me preparing for an interview: to answer this question, let me use an example from my undergrad dissertation, which involved the study of microbe populations in agricultural soilsÂ
 Me in the actual interview: lemme talk about my dirt thesis
I want to make perfectly clear that I did actually use the phrase âdirt thesisâ in my job interview
Update: I got the job

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We should be more careful with what we're sharing
Cartoonist Nathan Pyle, whose Strange Planet alien drawings youâve definitely seen everywhere, was discovered to be anti-abortion today, which serves as a valuable reminder that you should know about the person whose content youâre sharing.
Pyle shares his artwork on Instagram on an account called @NathanWPyleStrangePlanet, which boasts almost 2 million followers. But, he also has a personal Instagram account and Twitter, which reveals a lot more about where he stands on important issues, like a womanâs right to choose. Twitter user @anarchopupgirl found a tweet that he posted back in 2017, in which he talked up the anti-abortion March for Life in a post about his former girlfriend. He shared a screenshot of a Facebook post that she had written, which thanked âthe courageous mothersâ who did not have abortions, and added, âWhen I think of the #MarchForLife, I first think of the life story of my girlfriend, Soojin. I am thankful she was given the gift of life.â
When looking at Pyleâs personal Instagram, though, itâs clear that we shouldnât have been surprised that he has such conservative views. The first line in his bio is âI follow Jesus,â which should clue you in about his religious leanings.
Though you may not have followed Pyleâs account, youâve no doubt seen his drawings re-posted by others on social media, and maybe even shared some yourself. Finding out about Pyleâs problematic views serves as a needed warning to make sure the content that youâre sharing was created by someone who views you as deserving of autonomy over your own body.
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âkay now can we start spreading THIS version instead please? Thanks
âyouâre an art model does that mean youâre NAKED?â âyeahâ âwhoaâŚ.those lucky artists ;)â
âŚbuddy.
idk who started the idea that life drawing classes have anything sexy going on like. thereâs at least ten people in the room and weâre all tired and covered in charcoal.
the dude in front whoâs staring at my boobs has been trying to get the shading right for 10 minutes. heâs almost out of paint. he is crying.
#this ainât some avant-garde titanic poly romance itâs a bunch of individual sinking ships and one uncaring human-shaped ice burg
The ice burg being frozen solid because there are NEVER ENOUGH SPACE HEATERS.
I was an artistâs model in uni since it paid better than any other student work position. Did a life drawing class one semester, despite it being an unheated old building in the winter evenings, because the instructor was a decent fellow who always had extra space heaters. So there I am one evening, exhausted from my teamâs afternoon practice, but Iâm in a comfortable position on a padded stool, ready to hold the position for like fifteen minutes. Space heaters all around me, spotlights on me to get shadows in interesting places.
Beyond the red glow of the heaters and the hot-white of the spotlights, the massive drafty room is dark and quiet, broken only by the instructorâs whispers and the scratch of charcoal on paper. Me, Iâm just dozing, âcause my ancient dorm was heated with creaky old steampipes that never really got warm, and with the new extra-powered space heater alongside the others, that night was the warmest Iâd been in a month. I dozed, basking in the glorious warmth.
And then I fell asleep.
And then I fell off the stool.
I woke up rather abruptly on the cold wooden platform, and looked up to see an entire ring of terrified and worried faces around me. Everyone had their hands up, ready to help me up, except no one had touched me. Naked chick laid out face-down on the floor, and all the men and women were suddenly acutely aware they couldnât just grab a half-asleep dazed naked chick.
Fortunately someone had the bright idea to tear the sheet down from the backdrop, lay it over me as a wrap, and then everyone was quick to help me up.
After that, the instructor and students got used to taking turns talking to me, just to make sure I wasnât dozing off. Which was weird, at first, because Iâd done two semesters just being a silent prop, and now I was interacting. It gave the class a vibe completely unlike any other Iâd modeled for, and it ended up one of my favorite modeling experiences.Â
postscript: months later, walking on campus with someone whoâd eventually become my spouse, we passed some guys on the main path. One of them stopped, peered at me, and then said hello, excitedly, saying, âsorry, I didnât recognize you, Iâve never seen you with your clothes on!â
This is honestly so delightful and accurateÂ
The only situation where saying âIâve never seen you with your clothes onâ is a completely normal thing to say.