Why do people ask "This is satire, right?" rather than just "this is a joke, right?". Not everything is satire. Satire requires having little goat feet. And my feet are notably fins.

thinking about how ursula k leguin said "what goes too long unchanged destroys itself. The forest is forever because it dies and dies and so lives" and how everyday i wake up slightly different and i can feel myself shed the skin of who i used to be slowly, slowly, until i look back and can scarcely recognise who i was... but also she is still a part of me, part of the leaf litter and the humus, supporting me as i send new roots down and new leaves stretching up to the sunlight

I bet raising your arm and summoning a weapon for you to grasp feels good as fuck