[If Chance has a choice — if he’s not shepherded into a classroom, the dining hall, chores, the Delma dorms after curfew — he’s outside. Like a feral child resisting civilization, he gravitates to open space, fresh air. The promise of an easier escape.

If he ignores the fact that no matter what, no matter where he goes, he’s bound to hit a wall eventually. 

He doesn’t know if it’s ever going to be comforting. It should be, he knows. The walls promise safety. But sometimes he can’t help but think that he belongs where he was, on the other side of them. He doesn’t, though, he doesn’t — not him as he is, not him on his own. And he doesn’t know if that rankles, doesn’t know if that’s a failure. To need safety, to not be something that others need to be kept safe from.

It’s a kind of no-man’s land he’s found, between the main building and the training rink. Sparse trees, nothing and no one here, but — that’s the point. Or it was, because there’s the scuff of feet on the ground, Chance turning around as they approach — saying nothing, just attuned, lightly expectant.]


anonymous said:

Why won't you see Snowpiercer? I have to disagree I found Looper very aesthetically inspiring, for example the scene where the main character joe transitions from being played by joseph grodon levitt to bruce willis. Do you reblog photo sets of films you've seen or only of films you've liked? Thoughts on drive/only god forgives? Apologies for the many questions.

I won’t see Snowpiercer because my sense is that it’s not the kind of movie that I like very much, and when coupled with the crazy hype for it online, is just going to make me yell at people on the internet for being lunatics.  I don’t get why a movie like Snowpiercer lights the internet on fire and people can’t shut up about it, whereas a movie like Bastards which is actually extremely excellent—no one really says shit about.  I think a lot about Bastards, I don’t think at all about Snowpiercer.  It’s not even like Bastards is some unapproachable art film.  It’s a taut revenge thing.  Or if we’re just saying sci-fi—then a movie like Beyond the Black Rainbow, everyone just talks about how boring it is—but it’s so beautiful and not boring!  And it pulls through the same crazy sci-fi anime influence that Looper does—but unlike Looper it actually has a stunning aesthetic at work.

Looper was ugly to me, all of the stills I’ve seen from Snowpiercer have been ugly to me.  And not even interesting ugly.  Just ugly in that sense of paint by numbers camera filters that keep the mediocre films of our era from at least even looking half alive.  Looper was this amber pastiche of midwestern grains thrown against a future setting that is similarly without much contrast.  Was very boring, and very predictable.  Especially since I live in the midwest, and it’s not some kind of platonic ideal to me, and I’ve seen plenty of films flip that exact setting into something more complex visually.  I don’t think the film was shot in some amazing way either.  There’s not like a ton of shit in those movies that are like mindblowing shots that I need to see again.  I see lame looking movies like this against a Pedro Costa or Albert Serra movie that looks like a fucking painting and it makes me roll my eyes.

As for the stories, I get even less out of them.  I don’t think they are very interesting stories, and in the case of Looper since I’ve seen that one, I don’t think it’s told especially well.  Or at least it’s not told in a way that is interesting to me.  I don’t like being told things, I don’t care about plot.  I only care about beauty and whatever you have to do to take me to that horrible place.

At least someone like Refn has an aesthetic vision.  His films have contrasts.  He can evoke an atmosphere.  I actually liked Drive, though I don’t think it’s aging very well.  I liked the music.  I don’t think I liked it as much as Bronson or Valhalla Rising.  And I haven’t gotten around to seeing Only God Forgives—so maybe Drive wasn’t good enough to maintain my interest in Refn.

As for what I reblog.  I reblog movies I’ve just watched usually, it is sort of part of locking them into my brain.  And I reblog movies that I like.  And then I write about movies that really intrigue me.

[[★]] I don't want to be seen as unapproachable. I don't want to be seen as a popular blog that only certain people can interact with.

Can't I just be "Rhi?" Can't I just have fun here? Can't I just enjoy myself with anyone without being questioned for it or my friends being hurt???

I can’t recall another period with such a wide-ranging mainstream presence as this Carefree Black Girl archetype. You may recognize it as Willow Smith rocking a pink Mohawk, Corinne Bailey Rae sauntering around Paris, Janelle Monáe serving android realness, and 100% of Solange Knowles’ life on Instagram.

I don’t know if any of these ladies would identify as such, but their influence is deeply felt and appreciated in CFBG spaces. They exhibit the qualities we all cherish to a wider audience that isn’t regularly exposed to the multitudes of black female creativity.

While the visual presence of Carefree Black Girls is exciting, some might wonder what would prompt such a hyper-specific expression. By putting the word “carefree” front and center, it’s making a statement that we don’t want to be solely defined by hardships and stereotypes so we can enjoy our lives as we please. Carefree should not be mistaken with careless. This particular audience is equally exposed to content exploring identity, culture, and history and its implications on them. There’s a clear reverence for the difficulties they might face but an equal focus on embracing the qualities that make them unique and beautiful. The idea also embodies not letting an outside gaze rule the way you express yourself.

Overall, I think Carefree Black Girl is a lovely and much-needed step in the right direction when it comes to exploring black identities. There may be concern that it lends itself to a passing trend or restrictive roles, but fear not. The absolute worst case scenario is that girls might start wearing floral headbands and feeling great about themselves. And, that sounds like a pretty magical prospect, if you ask me.

—  Who Exactly Is “The Carefree Black Girl”?

By Jamala Johns 


Tonight I went out to a small pub for karaoke, and the DJ happened to notice that I have big breasts. (MAZEL TOV, YOU HAVE EYES! WELL SPOTTED!)

So anyway, this guy decides to do the bar a favor and say, “Wow, I don’t usually single people out, but did you see this girl’s breasts? They’re amazing!” I was horrified. Men came over to talk to me, I huddled in a corner with my phone and tried to look as unapproachable as possible. I considered leaving, but I was there with my friends and didn’t want to go home.

Eventually, I felt comfortable enough to go up and sing (“Foolish Games” obvi), and I guess I should have seen it coming, but the DJ went ahead and did a 5 minute bit about my boobs with me standing right there in front of everyone. I was already pretty nervous what with being a writer hanging out with a group of professional singers, and by the end of his bit, I wanted to crawl under the floor and die. I cracked a joke about being uncomfortable (yaaaay comedy writer), and the DJ said, "Relax, it’s a compliment."

No. No. No.

Reducing me to the body parts you like best is not a compliment. Demeaning me and making me feel small is not a compliment. Reminding me that you and any other man who wants to can take my body as your own whenever you feel like it is not a compliment, no matter how jokey or flattering or whatever your tone.

I am sick of having to pretend harassment is flattery, and even more sick of being called ill-humored when I respond poorly. When I get upset about your harassment, I’m not ruining the fun. You are.

Sorry for the <rant>, but I’d like to pledge to be more outspoken in standing up for myself the next time this happens, no matter how scared or small I feel. Even more important, I hope I’ll have the guts to stand up for someone else next time I see something like this happening to another person — and I hope all of you (**especially you, male readers**) will do the same. Smooches! </rant>

I’ve been asking God to carve out my cynicism. And I know that He heard me because I feel Him scraping it out. He isn’t being discreet about it either. Like a doctor discussing the cancer found in His patient, God keeps wanting to talk about where all He found it, and how its traces of prideful intolerance have been choking out my compassion and smothering my joy. I really enjoyed having a cynical side. It made me funnier. It also made me an unapproachable ass though, because cynical humor is always at someone’s expense. It side steps a legitimate issue and contorts it to exaggerate inferiority. It eats away at the delicate beautiful things that are supposed to stay—kindness, understanding, mercy, forgiveness, patience, gentleness—it eats away at the things that extend love, so that’s why I asked God to come carve it out. He’s been opening my eyes to see how in the past, my cynicism has either been a product of immaturity and ignorance, or a response to me being let down or embarrassed in some way. I’m done making excuses for sarcastic pessimism. It’s not that fun. It’s a pitiful attempt to make light of an actual problem. So as a follower of truth, I’ve decided to start facing problems instead of making jokes out of them.
—  LB, To Taste & See

 The place where she stood seemed to him a holy shrine, unapproachable, and there was one moment when he was almost retreating, so overwhelmed was he with terror. He had to make an effort to master himself, and to remind himself that people of all sorts were moving about her, and that he too might come there to skate. He walked down, for a long while avoiding looking at her as at the sun, but seeing her, as one does the sun, without looking.

[It was supposed to be dark on days like this. Roy kicks a stone as he walks. Kick. Catch up. Kick. Repeat. He scowls at the rays of sunshine splattered across the walkways and squat buildings in vibrant blotches of yellow, scowls at the fluffy white clouds lazily making their way across the skies. He wishes them dark and thundering. Sheets of rain and a chill, angry wind would not go amiss. But here it is, his first day out of his self-enforced seclusion, and it has to be cheerful weather. It’s hard to be cruel in cheerful weather. Well, for him, at least. The voices seem to manage just fine.

Roy stops walking. He squints up again at the sun; his whole body tilts backward. He lowers his head—bites his lip and blinks away the sunspots.] Stupid.


anonymous said:

I've had 3 abortions! Tell me how awful I am? Shame me, I know it's what you truly want to do. Uhhhhhhh.

What I truly want to do is just be here with an open mind and heart. I’ve never shamed or have any desire to shame post abortive women. If you ever need to talk to someone, I’m here.

Please, don’t ever think for a minute that just because I’m pro-life that I’m unapproachable.

lucem—caelumx, xx-help-from-above-xx, cadensin-tenebris


Determination in his eyes, he stands right before them. He’s not very sure if this is going to work, but he’s been told this is how they introduce each other in this World, and here he goes:

      ” 'Bitches, I see you got some fine legs.'