edmund-grayson  asked:

That mood light thing with Remus is amazing. I found it from a reblog and I had to follow. A++ character design I love him. Would love to see more from lamp boy c:


glad you like him, i draw rem fairly often anyway so you’re in luck 👉👉


steven dennis rem from Oryn Therebel on Vimeo.

How to Be a White Girl:

1. Find God. 

A gargoyle nests in Washington Cathedral
and spits rain on the tourists in the street.
Meet him on the balustrades. His tongue
is lead, his saliva dark. He was carved
from the Earth by pagan architects,
one last cosmic middle finger in a darker
age; he cannot save you from yourself.

2. Close your eyes.
There are no colors in the dark. Privilege
is invisible and insidious as air, and blinded
it becomes something beautiful, some regalia
you thought was part of you; a thorny crown.
In Nashville you wrapped yourself in feathers
and cried. “It’s not the same.” (your ancestors
nodding over mimosas.) “I’m a good person.”

3. Forget the dead.
My tea is named after the Sahara, is sweet
and clear as a continent in bloom. We hunt
elephants in our sleep, REM-safaris brewed
by Egyptian cotton. Elvis walks on the Nile,
crooning hips in the red sun. We walk the tall
grass and talk 9-11, chemtrails, Columbine,
absolution infused with alternate histories.

4. Learn to craft.
Refurbish a magic carpet with glitter glue.
Buffalo Exchange will trade it for a pleated
skirt and a leather jacket. You can make your
skin exceptional, can DIY apologetic flubs
into quirky micro-aggressions. The boys will
think it’s cute when you begin to obliterate names.
You are a Victorian princess, a Walmart witch,
a manic pixie nightmare.

5. Adopt an identity.
Embrace the millennium: buy flannel and get zen.
Asymmetrical haircuts will make you more interesting,
but butcher yoga and keep a list of your dark-skinned friends
in the safe-deposit box—cautionary measures. You can
revel in your empty bank account, your broken home:
trauma sells. And if you remember to marginalize yourself,
make sure you’ve carved out enough time to complain.  

6. Master postmodernism.
bell hooks and Warsan Shire quotes are enough to prove
you’re woke, you can keep up your Vonnegut affair
when no one’s looking. Ironically worship your Uggs,
etch Beyoncé into your latte order, flirt with a tattoo
in Kanji. No, it’s fine!—if not beautiful, it’s heart-healthy.
Once we fill our veins with Starbucks and white wine
we will begin to calcify: this is the first step to living forever.

7. Commodify blackness,
because you still want to own everything. Preach:
white is all colors refracted—or white is no color
at all. Discover Black Girl poetry, call it “Black Girl”
poetry, tell yourself you deserve it. Forget Virginia
Woolf, or dear Miss Dickinson, stretch your skin out
on rhythm & blues, tell yourself it looks natural on you,
it’s your birthrite. I, too, can be Real Cool—

8. Refinance.
Manifest destiny wasn’t what we thought, left us
with Chinese laundromats and taco trucks, gave us
kombucha and kimchi when we asked for cracked
wheat. White man’s burden is a fixed-rate mortgage;
read the fine print, worship that grace period. When
we left original America at a pitstop, we cashed in,
gassed out, sucked up and became necessary globalists.

9. Beg forgiveness.
There is no mea culpa for colonilization, no
Hallmark card for state-sponsored genocide,
no ancient monolith to shout apologies at the
stars. Steal scraps from white men, feed the
grotesque crumbs. Maybe he’ll save you, stuff
your mouth, eat your head. Poetry is just a rebate,
redeem it for a microwave, scatter your atoms instead.

10. Write it down.
If you want the world to know how you feel, spread
yourself across the internet, screaming like butter on
burnt toast:  Spread your legs, gather the world in,
hold her down. Cry without qualifying your tears.
Tell her: you have a stone animal on your shoulders,
his name is Legion, and always he is croaking I am
here I am here I am
, reading the stars and clutching.

We are waiting for God in the nave.

How to Be a White Girl, h.c.h.


I think of you literally all of the time. I am always thinking of some shape or form of you, as weird as that may sound. I am constantly reminded of you in everything, I see you when I watch scary movies, I see you when I drive by Starbucks, Target, or Barnes N Noble, I see you in the young couples at church that have children(because someday I saw us as those couples), I see you looking at a beautiful sunset or gazing at the stars, I am just constantly reminded of you in everything I do. And when I’m not being rem I’m thinking of the memories we made together, or I am thinking about the things you are doing with him, thinking of ways I went wrong with you, thinking of how much I miss the small things about you, and sadly thinking about all of the ways you have wronged me and hurt me in the last two months. Constantly thinking about you sucks, but I can’t stop. You are stuck in my mind, and I just want you to get out. I was so excited for us to be friends, because that meant I could think about helping you each day, asking how your day is going, and have you maybe do those things back for me. Having that would have filled my quota of you everyday, but instead I am stuck thinking about the you that just makes me constantly a mess. It’s you in my head all the time, and I really wish it wasn’t.

anonymous asked:

top 6 songs

Well, atm:
1. End of the world as we know it/REM
2. Yes/manic street preachers
3. Sam/suede
4. Aborigine/pulp
5. Heather/Saint etyenne
6. Just like heaven/the cure

plastic-cake replied to your post: i was reading a ton of insomnia articles and is…

apparently the secret or whatever is sleeping i. four hour blocks. like 4 hours or 8 hours or 12 etc but anything between that can heck u up and make u tired

i read that waking up at a certain point during REM sleep or gradually being woken up so that your body wakes up all the way will make you less tired but i’ve yet to have that proven

i usually aim for 8 hours but i still wake up tired?? maybe i’m just lacking vitamin d or smth

I tried taking a nap before work and accidentally went into REM and had a nightmare abt a guy from work who’s obsessed w me trapping me in a beach house and stealing my money which summarizes my feelings towards his weird ass rly well