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i'm a part time blogger and a full time fan

@mishfortunes / mishfortunes.tumblr.com

This blog needs an update.
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“homura doesn’t care abt madoka’s feelings/thoughts, she only cares abt protecting her.”

oh, right, so that’s why she was literally so distraught in ep. 12/towards the end of the 2nd movie at the realization that madoka would be a god forever, aka that she would no longer get to live, and she would be trapped in a beautiful heaven forever, forgotten and unknown by everybody while constantly having to save magical girls while preventing herself from becoming the most powerful witch ever.

that’s why homura felt so, so guilty when she realized that she was right all along, that madoka WOULD and DOES miss her family and friends, that she misses being alive, and that she isn’t as self assured or as confident as the image she puts on. she’s lonely, she’s unhappy, and more than that, she’s in pain and suffering.

and that’s why homura literally rewrote the universe (or rather, consumed everything inside of her labyrinth by expanding it everywhere) so madoka could be human again, so she could experience life again w her family and friends, w/o the burden of eternal, endless godhood.

homura literally proclaimed herself the devil, the opposite of god, taking all of that burden from madoka and putting it on HERSELF, bc she believes it’s all her fault in the first place.

…. bc she doesn’t care abt madoka’s feelings… right. 😐

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some of yall don't understand what human rights mean and it is legitimately worrying how some of you think that if a person is 'bad' enough they should have their human rights taken away

Part of the problem is that people think that if a person is 'bad' enough, that they stop being human.

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I've been thinking about this scene a lot recently.

Madoka doesn't want to protect the world because it's perfect and everyone is happy. She is very aware of how awful things are and how much suffering exists. But despite that, she believes that the wonderful things the world has to offer are enough to make it worth protecting.

And you know what? I agree.

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You should be starting a recipe book. I don't give a shit if you're only 20-years-old. The modern web is rotting away bit by bit before our very eyes. You have no idea when that indie mom blog is going down or when Pinterest will remove that recipe. Copy it down in a notebook, physically or digitally. Save it somewhere only you can remove it. Trust me, looking for a recipe only to find out it's been wiped off the internet is so fucking sad. I've learned my lesson one too many times.

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jncoes

there r real teens out there who think discovering nirvana is a special achievement 

isnt that kinda the whole point of buddhism

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Hot take, but cis people have gender identities. They aren't the gender they identify as because of their genitalia or what their birth certificate says. They're only cis because they identify with a gender and it happens to match their government documentation. Cis men aren't men because they're "obviously" men for having a penis. They're men because they identify as men. It's the self-identification that dictates this, not any other factor, even for cis folks. And we should be framing it this way. A cis man identifies as a man and a cis woman identifies as a woman. There is no automatic or inherent gender.

You are not "born a boy/girl." Infants don't have a gender. You acquire gender when you identify as it. No such thing as "biologically a man/woman."

"I don't identify as anything, I'm a man."

It sure sounds like you identify as a man, bud.

Giving a brownie to cis folks who rb this.

Gonna admit the "this isn't a hot take it's obvious" comments from a dozen or so people are grating on my nerves, so I'm gonna address that.

Just say you've never had an actual conversation with a cis person outside of a very leftist circle lol. Obvious to you. To you, fellow trans person. I wish I got paid every time I had to hear a cis person say they don't have a gender identity or don't "identify" as anything they just "are" a man or a woman.

Sometimes you have to stop and ask yourselves what group of people a post is mainly directed at.

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it's just really fucking frustrating that we live in a world where I grew up being trained to believe that addicts are unloveable. and then I became an addict and I was still told that addicts are unloveable. and I just have to deal with the fact that there are people out there who believe that I don't deserve love, or that my partner is brave for loving me, or that my family and friends are suffering just from me existing. and that's fine that's just the way it is

but then on top of that. I have to deal with tumblr users telling me (an addict!!!) that they hate addicts in a cool new way that I should be totally sympathetic towards. see, they had a family member who was the most evil person on the planet! and that family member was an addict! so they can't help the fact that they now want all addicts to die! they can't help it! blast them all.

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This is a dangerous sentiment for me to express, as an editor who spends most of my working life telling writers to knock it off with the 45-word sentences and the adverbs and tortured metaphors, but I do think we're living through a period of weird pragmatic puritanism in mainstream literary taste.

e.g. I keep seeing people talk about 'purple prose' when they actually mean 'the writer uses vivid and/or metaphorical descriptive language'. I've seen people who present themselves as educators offer some of the best genre writing in western canon as examples of 'purple prose' because it engages strategically in prose-poetry to evoke mood and I guess that's sheer decadence when you could instead say "it was dark and scary outside". But that's not what purple prose means. Purple means the construction of the prose itself gets in the way of conveying meaning. mid-00s horse RPers know what I'm talking about. Cerulean orbs flash'd fire as they turn'd 'pon rollforth land, yonder horizonways. <= if I had to read this when I was 12, you don't get to call Ray Bradbury's prose 'purple'.

I griped on here recently about the prepossession with fictional characters in fictional narratives behaving 'rationally' and 'realistically' as if the sole purpose of a made-up story is to convince you it could have happened. No wonder the epistolary form is having a tumblr renaissance. One million billion arguments and thought experiments about The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas that almost all evade the point of the story: that you can't wriggle out of it. The narrator is telling you how it was, is and will be, and you must confront the dissonances it evokes and digest your discomfort. 'Realistic' begins on the author's terms, that's what gives them the power to reach into your brain and fiddle about until sparks happen. You kind of have to trust the process a little bit.

This ultra-orthodox attitude to writing shares a lot of common ground with the tight, tight commodification of art in online spaces. And I mean commodification in the truest sense - the reconstruction of the thing to maximise its capacity to interface with markets. Form and function are overwhelmingly privileged over cloudy ideas like meaning, intent and possibility, because you can apply a sliding value scale to the material aspects of a work. But you can't charge extra for 'more challenging conceptual response to the milieu' in a commission drive. So that shit becomes vestigial. It isn't valued, it isn't taught, so eventually it isn't sought out. At best it's mystified as part of a given writer/artist's 'talent', but either way it grows incumbent on the individual to care enough about that kind of skill to cultivate it.

And it's risky, because unmeasurables come with the possibility of rejection or failure. Drop in too many allegorical descriptions of the rose garden and someone will decide your prose is 'purple' and unserious. A lot of online audiences seem to be terrified of being considered pretentious in their tastes. That creates a real unwillingness to step out into discursive spaces where you 🫵 are expected to develop and explore a personal relationship with each element of a work. No guard rails, no right answers. Word of god is shit to us out here. But fear of getting that kind of analysis wrong makes people hove to work that slavishly explains itself on every page. And I'm left wondering, what's the point of art that leads every single participant to the same conclusion? See Spot run. Run, Spot, run. Down the rollforth land, yonder horizonways. I just want to read more weird stuff.

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