Ditto

The Silent Man (Dream Theater)

A rare acoustic song from the man himself

I’m glad you came back to it. I’m not a fan of gratuitous violence either but my “bad vibes” detector never went off while watching it which made me appreciate it more.

In fact, that show has greatly inspired some of my own writing.

I’ll give you a little bit of grace because you’re a dumbass

Next time ask “What did you mean, poster? Can you clarify? I’d like to understand what you mean!”

but you insulted my mental faculties lol eat shit

at least try :(

I am amused that you clicked my profile to weaponize ableism. That’s really cute! Good job!

Anyways, dipshit, I was speaking on reactionaries.

https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/reactionary

In case you are having trouble

I only play Spiderman on TV

They still used “based” lmao. Unlike clockwork they are stuck in the past and refuse to move on

A new term will come along eventually it’s all good

Honestly I’m not even sure why I’m asking as I already feel that it would come off as mean spirited and probably shouldn’t make this; I guess I’m hoping I’m just overestimating how this skit would come across.

I don’t think you should concern yourself about this at all.

In my opinion, “fantasy races” as a concept is silly and I’d even say is bigoted at the base level. Almost every “fantasy race” has the “humanoid alien Star Trek” problem. They are depictions of exaggerated human traits and, more often than not, negative human stereotypes.

How many stories can we tell about “overcoming our nature” disguised as a “fish out of water” story without jumping into the arms of biological essentialism? This character backstory is just as common as the orphan backstory.

FUCK GARY GYGAX

seems like a fun guy

Maybe this is more of a slow burn but one night I had this realization that one of my best friends, who I consider a brother even today, changed for the worse. He was always someone who liked to understand multiple perspectives on any given topic, it was one of the few major ideals we shared and bonded over. The realization was that he eventually just did not give any form of love or consideration for my own perspective on anything, anymore. It felt like he grew resentment over something I had no knowledge or control over. He didn’t even have the tiniest bit of courage to tell me anything.

I had enough when he was discussing Israel and Palestine with a mutual friend. It was nothing about suffering, conflict, death, what actions we may take, or even a simple condemnation. He had no sympathy for Palestinians. Nah, he only wanted to talk about how performative it was that people care and extended that to every single “culture war” topic. He didn’t care about anything. He only wanted to criticize.

I’ve never felt the distinction between “political” and “personal” hypocrisy be full of contrast, yet turn out to be one in the same here.

I still cry thinking about this. I hate it.

I am autistic, bi-polar, and schizophrenic.

I think your question is really interesting because I tend to associate the human eyes with extreme emotions whether it’s in my vivid imagination or if the person is right in front of me. Or myself. Sometimes, when I have conversations with people, I tend to focus on being intent with my listening because my mind wanders. When I feel like crying, I try to avoid looking at anything resembling eyes because I know I’ll let it go when I do. People know when I’m serious because I look it with a real intensity. Or sometimes, people just apologize to me for every little interaction and it hurts because I’m just trying to look out for others. I don’t always look so friendly and approachable.

I’ll look in the mirror five minutes from now and love that my eyes sparkle, then right before bed see nothing inside. A forceful interaction with the only person who knows what’s going on inside and out. I sometimes subconsciously began looking at myself at a different angle through a cabinet mirror because I’m never going to look at myself today, maybe tomorrow too, and most definitely not sure about next week. Selfies are a painful digital mirror; there’s no glamor; it’s tough to smile for the camera because it feels fake; I don’t want the world to see my happiness unless I choose to; my happiness is my love for everyone and everything I care about. So why am I faking a smile and directing my eyes into someone that I’m never really looking at? The physical glass mirror is still fake, but it’s only one degree of fake; it’s still material. The camera is just as fake, too, but it has purpose; it’s a natural progression of how we maintain our memories. And we’ve added them to our tool box. Still don’t like looking into my eyes or having my picture taken.

Even though I spent time describing quite a few contrasts, my imagination does not give a fuck if my emotions are processed and categorized. Looking at myself in the mirror could be full of delusion that I’m looking good today even though I let my beard go crooked and uneven. I can smile at everyone during any given day and mean it, or never mean it.

My imagination forces so much more negativity, at times, than I wish for. It’s so ugly. That’s what really makes me cry.

I see a lot of this when I look in other people’s eyes because that’s what I find beautiful deep down in my heart. It’s just life.

This was a good question!

my eyes are red

so sick of these out of touch rogue warlocks trying to teach words of power for nefarious ends

they should put him in the animus

post in the creative spaces

i’m in the poetry mines someones gotta

proud of you

The woodsman scene always felt like an elaborate anti-smoking PSA TV commercial to me.

I love/hate how the cigarette hanging out of the woodsman’s mouth felt so magnetic to the eyes like magic. Feels like he wanted to draw you in with the power of advertisement, then crush you with a magic spell about descending into fear.

we need the strongest presence in florida idk if they are gonna be up for it

Here is a poem I wrote for us:

“The Spiral”

From below I rise

Speaking loud and crashing high
Full of depth with sparkling width
Voice is clipped, revisit reprise
Emotions stripped from shining skies
And the heart follows

Control excitement, suppress my love
Watch the spell fall into burning, brightened silence
I’ll dispel it but not today, not tomorrow
But some other day.
Ignore the smiles above
Ignore them from below
Absorb their pain, the crying bellows
Return resistance
With burning, brightened silence

Control clarity or lose the mind
Tumbling downward, spiral
Intertwined chorus, inner torus
Encased in spirit and sent again
Repeated cycles, twisted chorus
Fall through the spiral
Through memory courses
Master the mind, I promise, I will
Just one of many forces

Meeting more than my eyes can see
Visionary delusions are pure belief
Resting on control; clawing, unstable
Crackling, burning, shining, and violent
Shadows lurking ever since

Piercing, spectral phlebotomy
Only draws blood from half of me
Phantoms yearn to feast on the rest of me
Screaming forward, stealing memory
A thief in the night, screeching moon geist
Can take me
If it drinks from my nosebleed

Now my heart leads
Emotions return to shining skies
New notes sing, leaving reprise behind
Sparkling width searching for depth
Speaking quiet and crashing low

Back to the top I go

and AK47s for EVERYONE