i'm mossy!

and so many of them rely desperately on mutual aid and donations from very generous people online

and they're then banned, not because of any actual real violation of rules, but because of mass harassment campaigns and transphobic moderators to the point that the owner will stalk you and try to doxx you for being trans

because they dont understand how your online presence may be the only way to find anyone who supports you. for many trans women, they have Absolutely No One irl who supports them. transphobic family. toxic roommates. or maybe theyre just completely homeless. its very likely that there is no one to help or support them or even just to tell them that trans women deserve love

The blood, the desperate clutch, the crying and the pose all suggest something religious, making the post all the more impactful with its drawing- The caramel frappe does not answer the subject, just as God does not answer the subjects of paintings who depicted the same theme.

It’s also intriguing where OP chose to put details. In amostly minimalist creation, the (relatively) detailed frappe, hands, and face guides your eyes in a a dynamic way- from the frappe to the face, then follows the line of the body out to the end of the legs- making the art more interesting to the eye.

simon: ocean's haunted

eva: what?

movies right now are absolutely terrified of silence. every spare second is crammed with motion and noise and information. there’s always something new to look at, something new to process. look here. now here. don’t blink. don’t breathe. it’s constant stimulation. there’s no room left for a moment to land before the next one is already gone.

there’s good sci fi horror out there that do silence and restraint well. i can immediately think of under the skin, annihilation, and ex machina. sometimes the silence is the point. personally i think iron lung works in that lineage.

this isn’t a movie that will let you sit there and passively consume. this is a movie full of visual and audial clues waiting for you to unravel them. this is a movie that wants you to notice your breathing. to feel the silence press in until it’s oppressive.

isolation is the movie. it’s you alone with your thoughts, with time stretching and warping, with nothing to distract you from the constant dread creeping in. it’s not the monsters out there that you’re afraid of. not the constant drip, drip, drip of impending doom. but you, alone, in an endless sea of red.

can you count your breaths in the silence? can you hear your heart beating in your ears? can you live with yourself?

My grandfather responded by calmly explaining what he was doing, step by step. Explaining why he was skinning the deer, and quartering it, taking it from this https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White-tailed_deer to this https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Venison

By the time he was cooking tenderloin medallions and plating them up to me with grape jelly (don’t knock grape jelly on meat until you’ve tried it!) and instant mashed potatoes, I wasn’t startled or concerned anymore. I had a deeper understanding of the way the world worked, of my role as a consumer, a predator. Of the responsibilities that entailed. I couldn’t have explained it then, of course, with my 4-year-old mind and vocabulary - but Philosophy had been set into motion. This is a core memory for me. 

I did not have nightmares about the butchered deer. 

People have such a romantic view of farming and growing food but a lot of my summers as a kid was spent trying to come up with ways to stop birds from eating our vegetables, planting other plants and releasing insects to keep other insects away, and pulling weeds.

Food doesn’t just sit there all pretty growing in the sun. Everything wants to steal it away from you. Agriculture even on a small scale is a never ending battle against insects, other plants stealing water and sunlight, birds, small mammals. You are not the only one who wants the fruits of your labor.