🇵🇸 GOFUNDMES FOR GAZA (25 MAR 2025) 🇵🇸

it is november, and yesterday it felt like it was supposed to be snowing. in boston, november used a winter month, not a fall month. it is supposed to be chilly; rarely capping over 45F. it is a sweater-and-jacket month. it is a "maybe a scarf too" month. in my childhood, november meant blizzards and sleet.

it did not snow. tomorrow the weather predicts a high of 76.

i have spent so many years of my life studying the longterm possibilities of climate change - the culmination of capitalism wreaking havoc on the bodies of people, animals, plants - but every so often i am still shocked by something small and personal.

in a hundred years, when someone goes outside in boston - will they know the feeling of "snow in the air"?

i know it's a learned feeling, a sensation that maybe only longterm experience can teach. a few years ago, i was walking with my friend who had just moved up from the south. i said it smells like snow and she gave me this look like - what the fuck. i said it feels like snow too, which didn't help. she looked up to the bright blue sky and then back at me and then back at the sky. 12 hours later, we had 3 inches. you can just tell if it's going to snow.

except i can't tell, anymore. i stand outside in a tee shirt and watch my dog dance around a lake. we're in a drought and the skin of the water has peeled back twenty meters. the lake is tamed, quiet, puddlelike and sour. my pokemon go app warns there's a weather condition in my area.

my dog gets too hot from running and sits in the water and i want to laugh about his long frame and how awkwardly he sits - and i can't. some simian part of my brain is scratching the walls. it was supposed to snow. it was supposed to snow, but now it's warm instead.

during the last full solar eclipse, the dogs and the birds and the crickets went crazy under utter darkness. we laughed at them then, promising it will all be okay in a moment. but some part of me is still locked in that long night: some animal sensation.

something is wrong, my body says. i can't afford eggs or rent. i go outside to watch a sunset and listen to birdsong. i don't bring a jacket. allergies are killing me this season, allergies i didn't have as a kid. everyone comments that halloween has started to feel strange, offkilter. that it's hard having "holiday cheer." my body thinks it's april, and then it thinks we're in september, and then june.

something is terribly wrong, she whispers. go outside. it is supposed to be snowing.

btw the thing she couldn’t ignore was someone calling her out for saying anti-depressants/hormone therapy are only perscribed by lazy doctors

I feel like such an asexual stereotype

I just ate like 2 pieces of stale garlic bread and honestly thinking about it, I’d eat that over having sex any day. Feels so stereotypical since I’m asexual (under the umbrella), but I’d have a strawberry shortcake or day old garlic bread over sex any day. Very happy to learn that those memes weren’t over exaggerating lol

man, re: immortal!klaus in the apocalypse five travels to, my brain whirs with ideas. like, five would genuinely just be a 13 year old kid, who found out that "hey, my whole FAMILY is dead, the whole WORLD is dead, and i haven't been here for any of it." and like, man. MAN. the angst! and klaus trying to be a good big brother!! the ghosts trying to be a good family, but still fighting and just oogh and its like, im just picturing five, spending this time with them all, stuck in the apocalypse for years and years, but he manages to find a solution faster this time because he's not alone. he's got his whole family helping him, supporting him, even though they're messy and dysfunctional and don't really know what they're doing either there is also just the straight up fact that klaus can actually contact the deceased of just. straight up professionals and theorists who can help five with the physics and spatial manipulation, etc, of it. and that also brings me into another thing of like, KLAUS DEVELOPMENT man has been scared of ghosts his whole life, but then ghosts are what helps him to survive. the thing that terrifies him is what nourishes him. (especially if, in this au, you assume that klaus has been living in the apocalypse for some time before five teleports in. which is... fucked up on its own. like man. MAN.)

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

I fell asleep in my friends' arms. It was eleven at night, we were tired, curled up in a small pile on my tiny bed. I had my head buried in my roommate's side, and one of my closest friend's hand on my shoulder, steadying me. It was quiet and nothingness and peace and their heartbeats in my ears, my hands in their hair.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

We pack four people to that little bed, you know. Laps used as footrests, collarbones as pillows, little lights like moonlight in rustic yellow bathed on their faces. The TV plays an anime. The words are repeated by my dear friend on my shoulder, curled close. My legs are asleep; my roommate may be, too.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

The cat curls on top of our criss cross mess of legs and arms and heads on chests to absorb the warmth of us all. She purrs in contented peace. When my roommate and I are left alone in the quiet, she cries, and watches the door for our friends' return.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

I will never kiss them but the top of their heads. I will never touch but the warmth of their arms. I will never take more than what's freely given, and in return I put my glasses on the bedside table fashioned from a guitar amp, and when I lean into their sides, I pick up my vulnerability and place it in their capable, tender hands.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

I sing for them. I cry for them. I work and I run and I withstand the worst of the world for them, because some days I get to cradle their forehead on my shoulder and some days I get to see their shining eyes.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

Maybe to you. But look beyond explanation. I love them. With my heart in my unsteady hands, with my nose pressed to the side of their head, with the buzzing in my feet and the warmth all around Iike the sunset pushing into the window.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

Is it enough to say I love them? With no strings attached? With reckless abandon and utter devotion and freedom and kindness and fear?

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

I cannot explain it any clearer. I love my friends. There is no more to say.

Years go by like seconds, like chapters skipped in a dvd. And I thought, this isn’t right, this isn’t how life is supposed to feel.

it’s not. But at the end of the day, the week, the month, the year. I’m Owen, I’m Isabelle, I’m scared.

because as long as I don’t think about it, it can’t hurt me.

and I’ve tried to look at it, I’ve shown others. But in the end, it’s too complicated. Because I don’t fit into those boxes, and I won’t just be one.

so years will still pass like seconds, and every time it’ll hurt less until the pain is my regular. I’m not scared anymore.

I’m just empty.

Inside Man mini review

So I just finished watching inside man (the one by Steven Moffat) and I have been reading all the reviews of it on here and on other sites.

and I honestly loved it (mostly because of the actors but still), the suspense was pretty great, acting was terrific, plot was decent, relatively likeable (and if not, at least semi relatable) characters.

the one thing though is that I found, which lots of people seem to disagree with, is the way that Mary Watling and Harry Watling were portrayed throughout the whole ordeal and how they were shown to deal with their emotions. I found it incredible

the way that Mary reacted; trying to find a sense of normalcy in a situation that was the opposite of normal, keeping what seemed like a calm exterior to try and keep them all from imploding with everything going on. The occasional emotional explosions when she couldn’t take it anymore.

I found it to be a very true show of what extenuating circumstances can do to someone (ie. having your sons math tutor locked in your cellar because she thinks your son is a p3d0) and the lengths people will take to have some kind of control over their lives (doing normal things to alleviate guilt and terror)

The same goes with Harry Watling (aka the vicar), though his is shown more as a delayed reaction.

it’s almost as if he doesn’t truly realize what he’s done and what’s happening, or atleast he’s ignoring it pretty damn well. He doesn’t try to keep it normal (he knows it’s nowhere near normal) or keep peace so to speak; more than anything he just shuts down.

he barely speaks with anyone and when he does he shuts them out just as quickly. Using his title as vicar as moral high ground, saying “I couldn’t have done this, I’m too good for that”, using it as a shield against the reality of the situation. And comforting others (mostly), to again show the moral high ground that he has claimed.

It shows a different approach people can sometimes take when dealing with such things (though similar to the other ways); which can lead to people entirely shutting down and avoiding the world to try and alleviate guilt (and any other emotions they may be feeling), leading to lashing out at anyone who tries to help (no matter how misguided).

No one in this show is truly a good person, but they are still people and people will react in a million different ways to different scenarios.