please make sure that wherever you’re at in life, you don’t treat it like a transitory period. don’t waste your college years wishing to already be graduated & have a job. don’t waste your single years wishing for someone to be in love with. if/when those things come, they will come in due time and they will be good. but there is nothing like looking back and feeling empty because you wasted literal years ignoring what you had because you were hoping for something better. while it’s important to better yourself and reach for your goals, don’t neglect the present because that’s where you are now and it’s your now that determines your future.
Lol, good stuff.
"it's so fucking over" yeah dude it's 11pm it's the end of the day it's time for you to go to bed. and tomorrow you'll be so fucking back because you'll be awake. go tuck yourself in dude you'll be ok
Zoozve, my beloved
I think you should legally disclose if something is ai just like how you legally have to disclose if something is an ad
It wrinkles my brain that Jupiter’s moon Europa has oceans that are sixty miles deep, while Earth’s oceans only reach seven miles deep at most. I’m willing to bet good money that there’s life in Europa’s oceans. Like five bucks. You hear me, NASA? I bet you five bucks that there’s life on Europa… Now that there’s money and reputation on the line, I bet they send a mission there real quick.
having a quiet life is so.. underrated. i don’t mean it in the sense that people who’re open and loud and busy aren’t important, but when our culture has significantly put so much emphasis on the definition of success as fame, extraordinary accomplishments, greatness and importance and excessive wealth, i think there is so much power to be found in our own anonymity. in the silence of life. in not being constantly perceived, analyzed and performing for the world. in being able to take a walk, smile at strangers and just notice the world without all that noise. taking the biggest pleasure out of the smallest joys, like a cup of coffee or blowing out birthday candles. knowing that our lives don’t have to be a grand spectacle for others in order to have worth and cause a good impact.
Whispers: How would you go about a Naruto grows up out of Konaha Au? Like imagine in the orphanage/his home he falls through the floor to a forgotten tunnel system from War time that's been dug further by animals and he losses his way and stumbles out, outside of Konoha's walls and he just decides to keep walking away. Maybe a encounter lets him know about Uzushiogakure and he just decides rather than being alone in Konoha he'd be better alone in Uzu.
Naruto is quiet when he’s born, is red faced and blue eyed and golden haired and silent.
Kushina stares down at him, at her little maelstrom made up of all of the colors that have come to define her life, and all she can do is ache.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. None of it was supposed to be like this. They were supposed to be happy.
“My little prince of eddies and tides,” she murmurs, tears dripping down her face to land like raindrops or sea spray on his whiskered cheek, “Mama’s little storm. I’m so sorry.”
“Kushina,” Minato’s there, eyes bright with love and agony as he trails one calloused fingertip down Naruto’s now damp cheek with an exquisite sort of gentleness. “Look at him, he’s beautiful. My son. Our son. Our little bud finally bloomed. It’s so good to finally meet you, Naruto.”
“Minato,” Kushina half sobs, arms curling tighter around her baby, “Minato we can’t …”
“We have to,” Minato grits out. “The village.”
“They’ll be cruel to him, Minato,” Kushina insists brokenly, viciously, a half feral sort of thing gnawing at her heart. It feels like a promise. Like premonition. “My baby. Our son. They’ll be so cruel.”
“No,” Minato refutes softly, voice certain and strong. “No. They’ll love him like the hero he is. This has to be done, my love. He’ll have a good life, I promise you. Sensei will be here, and Kakashi-kun. You just have to have faith.”
And, in the end, Kushina loves Minato and she loves their precious Naruto, but she also loves Konoha.
It’s the only home she has left. It’s where she found love. Where her little maelstrom will grow and learn and be.
So she gets up, fresh from the birthing bed, and she tightens her headband, and with Minato’s faith and her love in her heart she goes to do her duty at her husband’s side.
‘Protect him,’ Kushina prays silently to the old spirits from her childhood, to the things of salt and sun and deep deep waters. ‘Love him, protect him, keep him safe for always.’
Left behind, left alone and cold, Naruto wails.
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Something about the way bibliopunk/punk academia is treated on here Bugs Me and I think it can be best summed up as this:
You can't just throw the "punk" descriptor onto whatever you like and call it an aesthetic
Punk is not an aesthetic
Punk is a mindset, it's a philosophy-- it's a rebellion against societal systems
When I say bibliopunk, I don't mean sweater vests and old library photos and quotes from classics.
Bibliopunk, to me, a punk librarian, is about freedom of information. It's about making sure everyone and anyone can have the resources they need to learn, whatever that means for them. It's no late fees and fighting against censorship. It's defunding the police and funding community resource centers that specialize in making sure there's a place where people can go to ask for help, to read books on any subject they can think of, to connect with events and organizations that exist to help THEM. It's about making zines and learning how to bookbind, because fuck the idea that traditional publishing and Amazon are the only people that can make something a book.
Punk academia, which is used colloquially here, is related to this-- it's saying fuck the academic systems that keep out the poor, the people of color, and the disabled. Fuck your Ivy Leagues, education is whatever the hell you make it. College should be free, classes should be accessible WITHOUT being forced to give up all of your personal financial and health information, curriculums need to include as many varying perspectives as they can because fuck the idea that a cishet abled white man is the authority on any given topic.
Bibliopunk, punk academia, and any other Tumblr "aesthetic" with the punk descriptor is not just a moodboard of photos you stole from Pinterest.
Because what's more punk than a public library?