Me Too - Blog Posts
mentally I'm still in Ochkanatlan
I like this high tower at the entrance. there's nothing else besides the Statue of the Seven in this tower, making it seem like it's here to house the Statue (or something else long gone but bear with me) I also like how unusual it is for Statues of the Seven to seem like an actual part of the environment and not just kind of there. obviously this could've been just an empty tower in ruins but it kinda makes it seem like this tower is here to house the Statue
so like... these Statues, how old are they? likely 500 years old for the current ones. but I always liked to think they've been a thing since the first Archons and they used to be updated to whoever is the current Archon but stopped being updated after the Cataclysm
obviously, if this Statue existed at the time it would be depicting Xbalanque. so I can't help but be here kinda wondering if Och-Kan had this tower built to keep his god's statue inside it 💀
this place where you'll find a sword:
what sword is this?? i'm looking on the wiki but can't find anything. this is NOT the Flute of Ezpitzal
if you draw the sword, you get teleported to a place where you can get an actual copy of the Flute of Ezpitzal to use on your def scaling sword users
which is above the clouds, far above the Ochkanatlan area (you can plunge to it), and is situated directly above the throne of the primal flame:
wonder if this is where Maghan was active, hence why his sword is here... especially the fog. okay it's above the clouds but I don't remember other areas above the clouds being this misty so -
Manqu's hideout, I think because this shining thing on the table is most of his notes
and
i wonder if Och-Kan resided there, because this place is littered with his writings (note I to VI). it's directly accross the Ixlel's statue too... i doubt he resided in the underground but maybe stayed there to oversee the excavation?
oh and bonus:
giving us this idle and 2 updates later the possibility to photography ourselves next to corpses is giving me too much power second worst dragon he hunted, at least on my acc
we need to invent a way to fall down an unrealistically long flight of stairs breaking every bone and dying on the way down and be fine as soon as i reach the bottom
Why We March
Today around the world we march again. We march for the women who give themselves, to allow us to come into the world. We walk for cisgender women, transwomen, black women, poor women, brilliant women, all women.
We march because women who in 1920 were allowed to raise their voice and speak their mind in public to vote, but not at home. Until the 1990s, and even in many states today a women’s vocal pronouncement of “NO” when her husband wanted to have sex, was not an option. Even today, there are many states where it is only marital rape if there is proof of extreme threat of violence or violence.
We march because women, who on average go for higher degrees and do better in the classroom, on average only make $0.79 for every dollar a man makes. An average, Black woman and Hispanic woman make less.
We march because men have to do so little to be considered great leaders and parents, but one misstep and women are seen as being harmful and neglectful to their children. Those first nine months where women not only couldn’t eat, drink, smoke, exercise as well as were the incubators for their chidren, means nothing. Perfection is the bare minimum asked by society.
We march because harassment, sexual violence and intimidation are not a rarity that women experience, but something that their whole lives are focused on, there is no day off. They know how many paces back the cute neighbor with the dog is, how long that car has been at the end of the block, where the bulbs are to replace the bulb in the entry way. Women know these things not because they’re mothers, or it’s part of their DNA, because they have to, TO SURVIVE.
These are the shameful reasons why we march. We march because society has allowed these and other aspects of women lived to continue as second rate, as not good enough, when they are the ones dragging us ahead. This why we all march.
"I want you. I want us to be together." "Me too."
CARLA CONNOR & LISA SWAIN | CORONATION STREET
Funny how the least stable person on the island somehow became the unanimous leader. If I had to bet on which survivor I could most easily make cry in an argument it is without a doubt Jack. One well timed dad remark and my man is crumbling like a house of cards.
My affection for my dearest Captain Robert Walton increases every day
"poly141" Where. Is. GAZ.
Article is based on a UN study surveying North African men.
Anytime people refer to autism as just “tism” I can only think of TISM the band
These guys
I don’t think there’s a day where I don’t think about this conversation
Arf!
oh my god i need to be someone's cute robotgirl pet so bad
websurfer1994:
me: *overestimates the length of a yellow light and completely 100% runs a red light* me while driving away: I AM A BEACON OF SIN I AM A BEACON OF SIN I AM A BEACON OF SIN I AM A BEACON OF SIN I AM A BEACON OF SIN I AM A BEACON OF SIN I AM A BEACON OF SIN I
TRIGGER WARNING!!!! SA, Depression, self injurious behavior, suicidal tendencies
The hardest part of living with sexual assault is having to continue living. Countless weeks I've spent, fake smiles, pretending everything was normal while I crumbled inside. I've spent every waking moment haunted, feeling unclean, because of the actions a man took once he decided that I owed him my body.
I thought it got easier. It did for a few months. And now I'm back at the campus where it happened. My heart aches everytime I step foot on the sidewalk. I avert my eyes from 2 buildings, where two different men took something that wasnt theirs, something I didnt give them. Their selfish actions did this.
Sometimes all I want to do is scream. I want to scream in the middle of campus what unspeakable things these men have done to me. What they have done to others. Instead I bite my tongue, and duck my head as I continue to walk to class.
The only safe haven on campus is my professor's offices. I've spent many hours sobbing there, receiving advice on work and studying. Now I sob the for a different reason. And now my professors gently gesture for me to enter their office, offering words of comfort and support.
One had a story very similar to mine. On the same campus she was raped, 19, a virgin. I was 18 and 19. She is my hope for the future, my hope that it gets better, my hope for a PhD, because she did it.
I feel sick, everytime I look at something that reminds me of them. I cant be in red lighting. I cant play certain games. I cant hold my boyfriend because I'm afraid of his hands, so gentle and kind, because of the cruel hands of another.
I feel a lot of things. Anger, at them for believing they had the right to do this, and at the world for letting this happen. Angry for trusting them. Angry at them for using me as a plaything, disregarding my humanity. Sorrow for the loss of my innocence, and for all the pieces of myself I lost.
Sometimes I feel like I'm shards of myself stuck in my old body. In reality, I should be fragmented, broken, but instead I stand, eyes down, hiding my broken pieces, and posing as someone who isn't hurting.
I want to say this because it happened to me. I want to say this because it's real. I want to say this because it can happen to others. I'm sick of staying quiet and allowing my rapists to ultimately win as I break down and get swept away by the wind. I am more than a statistic. No means no. Being pushed, pressured, or coerced into saying yes means no. Being inebriated means no.
Please stay safe. Always travel in groups. Let your friends know where you are at and with whom.
Me when I want to post a pic from insta '-'
I've been working on a serious post for like half an hour and Tumblr won't fuckin post that I'm going to scream and cry
i love finding tumblr moots on other socials
