One must simply be. Enjoy the weal and the woe as it comes.
How do you appreciate the praise and positivity from people while not letting the hate get to you?
You kind of have to not really let the praise get to you either.
This definitely plays into theatre in similar ways - I would be very curious to delve into that and discuss that with folks sometime.
If you're into roleplaying, you've probably heard about bleed. But do you know what memetic bleed is, or emancipatory bleed? There is a whole network of concepts out there about what spills over between characters and players. And if you've ever wondered why not everyone experiences bleed the same way, you'll love to read about bleed thresholds.
your honor, i maintain that the prosecution’s video is being played in reverse. in actuality i came upon a village that was already on fire and sucked up all the flames into my special magic wand. i then moonwalked in the wrong direction for some reason
What an unsurprising & completely expected turn of events that literally everyone saw coming 😮
Source 🔗
Free 🔗
truly some people have no genre savviness whatsoever. A girl came back from the dead the other day and fresh out of the grave she laughed and laughed and lay down on the grass nearby to watch the sky, dirt still under her nails. I asked her if she’s sad about anything and she asked me why she should be. I asked her if she’s perhaps worried she’s a shadow of who she used to be and she said that if she is a shadow she is a joyous one, and anyway whoever she was she is her, now, and that’s enough. I inquired about revenge, about unfinished business, about what had filled her with the incessant need to claw her way out from beneath but she just said she’s here to live. I told her about ghosts, about zombies, tried to explain to her how her options lie between horror and tragedy but she just said if those are the stories meant for her then she’ll make another one. I said “isn’t it terribly lonely how in your triumph over death nobody was here to greet you?” and she just looked at me funny and said “what do you mean? The whole world was here, waiting”. Some people, I tell you.
I know that—objectively—this is bullshit, but I have chosen to believe that the reason the US hasn't formally changed to the metric system is for the poets. When the going gets tough you can still claw your way forward inch by inch, but centimeter by centimeter just doesn't quite carry you. You're in love/excited/nervous/scared and your heart is beating a hundred miles per hour, whoa that sounds fast and dangerous! But a hundred kph? I've been passed by people going faster than that coming out of downtown on capital boulevard. The pound of flesh they take from you is raw and bloody and full of pain, the kilogram of flesh is impersonal and excised in laboratory conditions under strict observation. Liters are okay tho, if only because they sound like meter and a meter is used to measure things, so the measure of a man can be siphoned (as a byproduct of the kilogram) into a bottle with a screw cap lid and stored in a dark cool room until he is found wanting. A gallon would be wasteful, a quart too unserious, and a cup not enough to keep him from withering in the desert sands under 100 degree faeghreignheit sun. ...Okay maybe celsius gets a pass too.
It's embarrassing and also so damn joyous. I deeply love the discomfort... That is, the dis(covery of )comfort. It brings me great joy getting to know new people and getting to know them better.
early stages of friendship are Soooo embarrassing like yea sorry....... it's me again............ i enjoy talking to you and spending time with you....... you can shoot me point blank if you want i dont mind
he/they | 23 | theatremaker, devil's advocate, and amateur know-it-all
86 posts