i adore my bloodthirsty lizard so much

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i adore my bloodthirsty lizard so much

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There's something ironic, fateful and quite charming about the fact that Elizabeth comes from a race of people that realizes mind control as an act of, well, control. And then she goes and marries a compulsive liar.
He lies to you because he cares for you, Ellie. He skips and dances and never reveal his true intentions for your safety. He hurts and keeps you at bay cause he doesn't know what he would do if you were truly hurt. Of course he cares for you, he keeps you close and protect you from everyone and everything all the time.
And sometimes I wonder, when she considers Meliodas for every decision that she makes, when he's this fundamental stone of the way she sees the world. I wonder if being her mother's daughter didn't feel the same.
something that never leaves my mind is the way innie!mark was radicalized by ricken's self help book in severance S1. i found the clip of mark reading the book and obviously like ricken's sentiments here are not necessarily the most revolutionary or even the most coherent; someone who has the privilege of cynicism might be able to dismiss ricken's writing here as "cope by a weird dude who could not get his shit together and realize that he was not the next great american novelist" but to innie!mark who lives in the dehumanization panopticon where the only media he has access to is the fucking corporate bible[1], seeing things like "the system is wrong" and "humans are human, not machines" and even "fight for your fellow man" at its most bare bones is absolutely revolutionary and liberating. and they banned ricken's fucking book because even his milquetoast liberal faff was the kind of shit that could get a worker to question "what a second...what if I don't deserve to be treated that way?" idk it fucking haunts me. it really haunts me. scenes that will stick in my mind for the rest of forever [1]which. that's another thing. the gay old men interacting with the company permitted art and interpreting it through their own lens/queering it for themselves/using it as a love language...because humans are wont to connect with art in their own way no matter how much you try to control what they are exposed to; the human spirit craves expression and it will use whatever tools/means it has available to express itself. fuck.
just finished Star Wars. the first one chronologically. don’t ask me to name it im sleepy but pls tell me ur proud I’ve refused to watch this for literal years
danny elfman feet pics

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shift
This is going to be hard for me. The more I try to think about it, the more I slip into shift. Shift, yeah, that’s what I’ll call it. But I think I gotta tell someone, I think I might be going crazy.
I’ll be standing on a street corner and see something that reminds me of another time, or be laying in bed and the light will be just right, but then again, it’s not. Or sometimes, it happens when I am just sitting here talking to someone, like I am to you. Suddenly it’s like the world drops away, it’s all too familiar but, strange.
I think what it is, is that this, has happened, it’s happened infinite times. This moment occurs in refraction, splitting into millions of possibilities. Like, at any given second millions of universes could happen, choices could be made, but our form of existence is deterministic so we can only see straight lines. But I think maybe it looks more like synapses, branches, vertices.
I think, I could be seeing these moments. Not all the time, but when I do, I get a feeling of deja vu and the blood begins to pump in my ears, it’s happening now, I can feel it. I need to get this out quick before I shift to a place I didn’t write this.
The more I focus on it, the further I fall. I want to see what happens when I let myself lean into that feeling, but I’m scared. It’s like making yourself look under the bed. Like waiting for the needle to plunge into the vein. Like holding your breath underwater, just a moment longer.
I can pull myself out by trying to focus on something solid, but when I do, I collapse the possibility stream, I lose it. But there’s something there... under all the sick feelings, something important that nags at me to understand it. So, I wonder, why these moments? Why'd my brain connect with these seemingly meaningless times. Will I understand someday? Or am I going insane.
Logo I was commissioned to draw. Brain Soup.