A flatlay of some cool stationery from the same brand (kikki.k) that all seem to fit together in terms of colour. These are all from either the pause collection or the thrive collection, which I think complement each other. I definitely don’t study like this, the stationery looks really pretty though and I might use these notebooks for study notes.
these are some games that i’ve played and loved !! (as shown):
Tap Tap Fish: a click click click game sort of like cookie cutter where you gain points and build up a huge + beautiful aquarium! its very soothing and gentle to look at! a huge visual-stim for sure
Two-Dots: a puzzle game! like connect-the-dots but trickier. i found this really stimulating mentally! (make sure you read the instructions of each level because i forgot to a couple of times and was SO baffled)
Oxenfree: this was recommended to me last week + i love it! it’s a point + click game where you explore a spooky island and unlock a mystery (ive only just started it but i looove it, it’s very attention consuming because your really get sucked into the story!! it makes me feel like im in scooby doo or something 10/10
Toca Nature: you use your finger to drag and push across the screen and mould a landscape/environment! you can drop it plants and animals + then watch how they thrive + you collect food or plants that grow to feed them! it has really beautiful soothing background music too
Toca Boo: one of my fave really simple games- you drag your lil ghost character around the house in the dark + hide them + then pop out and scare people!
Lumino City: so so so pretty- another point + click adventure/explore game! you have to solve really tricky puzzles to try and rescue the characters grandather! it’s definitely mentally stimulating.
good luck my love + take care !!!
does anyone else have any favourite stimming apps/any recommendations?
So alien perspectives on humans are always fun because you get space orcs or space gypsys or the occassional space kinksters (because no matter what it is, some enterprising human will eventually try to bang it) but I secretly love the idea that we’re going to be the Cryptkeepers or Nightmare Fuel Station Attendents of the universe (at best) because our lore is effing DARK, and the happy shit never travels across cultures like the horror does.
It’ll be funny at first.
Earth kids are THOSE kids and grow up to collectively raise THOSE kids: The Next Generation. We don’t retell crap like Frozen or Mulan or the Lion King or whatever. Common campfire stories are all about escaped serial killers with hook hands or co-eds getting axe-murdered while their roommate is sleep. Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark or Goosebumps fare are readily told and embellished and shared again. Bloody Mary and Candy Man spread all over the Galactic Scouts of the Virgo Supercluster like wildfire. Human kids think nothing of it, but the youth of over twenty different alien races are completely traumatized.
And it starts from Day 1. Imagine it: some stressed human with a squalling newborn is stuck waiting in the spaceport lounge for a super-delayed flight to Alpha Centauri and EVERYONE is getting pissed and the parent is getting even more frantic and embarrassed because their language translator works just fine and Atarians haven’t exactly perfected whispering anyway so they KNOW they’re totally being judged right now (I knew humans were loud Grarblyx, but this is ridiculous!!!) and they eventually go “fuck it” and resort to nursery rhymes. Jesus. It’s nice enough at first and kinda sweet and the human parent actually has a good singing voice so no one really minds, but then the words start registering? Holy. Shit. The bystanders are going to be just, just SO lost. This scumbag fleshie stuck their baby in a tree and it fell out and that’s okay with you?? An elder went to bed and bumped his head and fucking died and you’re singing about it??? Plague carols, Hrothlax! The fleshie’s singing plague carols! No one knows what’s worse–the parent thinking this is acceptable, or that fact that its working and the baby is soothed by the horror rhymes. #DemonBaby and #HumanParentsAreTheWorst are trending on cosmic Twitter within the hour. #WTFHumanity –a top twenty mainstay– hits the number one spot yet again.
That triggers even more curiosity and OF COURSE nursery rhymes trigger the fairytale discussion, and Humans Are Trolls so screw Disney, its Brothers Grimm (& Co.) time. Cinderella? Chopped off toes, ensorcelled shoes, birds pecking out eyes. Little Red Riding Hood (or the Lon Po Po variant, which is Nightmare Fuel in its own right)??? Snow White???? (WHY ARE HUMANS TELLING THEIR KIDS STORIES ABOUT MURDERING KIDS? NO WONDER THEY’RE NUTS–THIS NONSENSE STARTS AT BIRTH!!) Sleeping Beauty??? (Bloodline curses and rape, wtf?????)
You know what Earth offers up to Galactic TV??? It’s not Star Wars or Star Trek or super hero movies, because all that is reality now. Rom Coms never do well off Earth. (Or on Earth, these days) because they don’t cross culutres well. But slasher films??? They never go away because we LOVE them, even if only to mock them. Time to revisit the classics. Michael Myers returns, the Scream franchise is rebooted. SO. MANY. AXE MURDERS.
Humanity, you’re so weird, lol.
But everyone better hope it stops there at the Cryptkeeper level, or THINGS GO WRONG.
Next level? The supernatural shit is POSSIBLE because aliens are real and there are species that see what we only barely detect, and some Effed. Up. Mess. goes down on Earth. All those horror stories based on some human with ESP drawing the wrong thing’s attention? All those written off feelings of paranoia or fear? That’s going to make for some fucked up reality checks for HUMANS because our sixth sense is notorious and then you have to wonder…ghosts? Poltergeists? Demonic or violent entities? All that was contained on Earth but now can cross the stars.
What happens when ideas that thrive off the collective unconscious goes galactic? What if there is a species that has evolved enough to engender psychic constructs?
They’d better be kept far away from shit like Freddy Kreuger, and ALL gods forbid the Slender Man mythos resurfaces. The Cthulu Mythos??? That’s introduced and immediately banned and now Earth isn’t quirky and dangerous-but-awesome, but SpaceHell.
Since I can’t get a dog I’m becoming a bit of a plant lady.
Darcy Orange, the miniature orange tree, has survived with me for a few months despite all odds and is actually thriving.
My cacti collection is doing good as well. My neighbour gave me a bigger one as a birthday present and I’m still debating where to put it,
need to find it a nice pot since it doesn’t fit in the ones I have.
And one of my best friends gave me a bonsai for my birthday! I’ve named it Darryl Christoper Elm, since it’s a Chinese Elm tree.
I’ve been dying to get one for ages but never had the courage to actually buy it, so pretty intimidated and excited by the challenge.
I’m thinking of going to IKEA and getting some ivy plants for my bookcases and a lemon tree. Mmmm I’ll prolly go in a few days…
“In a way. The crystal thrives on the collective emotions of all who came before us. In return, it provides power. Longevity. Protection. As it grew, it developed a consciousness of its own. In my arrogance, I sought to use it as a weapon of war. But its power proved too great to control. It overwhelmed us… and led to our destruction.”
An online friend of mine messaged me today and asked me questions about rape culture. He told me that he had contributed to it in the past without understanding the implications behind his actions, and he wanted to know more about it and to make sure he doesn’t contribute to it in the future. We had a good, genuine conversation and we listen to what the other had to say, and I honestly believe he understands more and that I was able to answer his questions without it dissolving into an argument.
This is what we need more of. People who seek to understand when they don’t, and who want to learn rather than push away. We need to do better.
My mom found this beautiful Euphorbia horrida hybrid in a nursery a couple of years ago. She has a history of killing even the toughest plants (mostly underwatering), but her small cactus collection thrives. Possibly even more than my own succulents.
I found that overthinking everything about a plant’s needs isn’t necessarily a good thing. You don’t always need expensive pots and soil mixes, gadgets, fertilizers and calendars to keep a cactus alive. Just give it lots of light + very little water and it will be happy!
When I was younger, my mother would always tell me one particular thing right before I would leave the house: she would request that I tolerate others. To hold my tongue and not speak out or fight back if anyone spoke badly about where I am from or the religion I practice. This especially became a concern after 9/11. “Always remember the colour of your skin,” she would remind me. “This country looks down on us. They always have. They always will.” And if it was my word against that of someone with lighter skin, I would easily find myself out of luck.
For that reason, I spent the majority of my youth walking around with clenched fists in my pockets. As I matured, I began to realize the cruel truths of the world, the horrible injustices done to people by other people. It was hard to accept, and sometimes, for some strange reason, it still is.
A great part of my being wants to believe that people are good. That they are still good despite everything they have done and continue to do to one another, and all the lives they have destroyed. This is perhaps extremely naive of me, and may be what eventually destroys me. Or perhaps this is the only thing that has kept me alive.
I find people to be a mix of horrible, fascinating, and brilliant. I think it is a rather dangerous combination. Lines are almost always crossed, because limits do not exist to us. We possess the ability to love and hate without any restrain, and not surprisingly, both inevitably lead to our ruin. We are idealistic, foolish, and stubborn. We pursue those things which we cannot and should not possess. We pursue ideas of permanence which themselves have changed through the course of time. We chase after ideals which are made to sound great in theory, but are often (read: always) treated as mythology and enforced as such.
One such myth is multiculturalism. If it truly exists, or if it ever has, it should be understood that multiculturalism has failed us. It has taught us nothing but to open ourselves to new culinary delights. But we are not some sort of ethnic buffet! Multiculturalism has done more for domestic economies than it has for its foreign-domestic populations, the products of immigration. It has not made us more amicable towards one another. It has not dissolved racial issues and concerns. It has not brought communities together. And it has not rid of preconceived notions of other races, religions, genders, or sexual orientations.
In fact, multiculturalism has been, at best, just a tease. A little show of skin; sultry legs, a dipping neckline, some cleavage. Something to excite the exotic in us. Something to make us feel like we are accepted, that we belong. That years of historic violence, abuse, and oppression can somehow be looked past without an apology. And no, multiculturalism is not an apology. It is not even a welcome, or a thank you. It is a bone. A pacifier. A lollipop for the crying child. A pathetic excuse.
Multiculturalism has failed us. Because it was never fully intended to work. Because tolerance is not the same thing as acceptance. Some of western society’s favourite occupations are to confuse tolerance for acceptance, acceptance for apology, common sense for liberalism, civic duty for charity – all on the pretense of some kind of profound form of enlightenment. Yet our names, languages, ethnicities, religions, and “cultures” all become subject to western fetishization. Somehow, for some reason, it is still okay to portray the non-white individual as the “other,” as something to be fascinated by. As if fundamentally altering the course of our history, and ultimately our existence, was alone not enough. But contrary to popular belief, we are not here for handouts or charity. But our struggles and sacrifices will be acknowledged. All the buzz words mean nothing to us. We are more than our food and our clothes, more than the languages we speak. We are more than our skin.
I do not want for future generations to have to worry about the colour of their skin, or to be told that they should change their names to something more “Western” and “easier to pronounce.” I do not want to see another PhD mopping floors or driving taxi cabs to ensure their children have a glimmer of hope in the West, only to be cheated into the lower rung of the ladder despite their efforts.
I do not want another immigration watch organization handing out anti-immigration literature to every door in our neighbourhoods, and then claim that they are not racist. I do not want another man to fear being called a terrorist for his beard or turban, or because he carries on his Prophet’s name, or another woman to be targeted for her hijab, her faith, and be told to go back to her country. Remember this: you cannot justify stealing bread from someone, and then becoming angry when someone else asks you for a piece.
The word diaspora translates from Greek to mean “the dispersal of seeds.” An immigrant is such a seed, planting him or herself into alien soil, dreaming to flourish as others have. But a seed cannot grow if the soil will not provide the nutrients it needs to survive. More and more of our seeds are failing, deteriorating, eventually dying. Or are just beginning to grow and then finding themselves to be cut down. Torn from their roots. Discarded.
The approach to this collection was not only to quell but also to cause qualm; to provide both a source for one to heal, as well as a brief glimpse into hell; to both remedy injury as well as rouse anger; to disturb those who have been pacified; to momentarily disrupt the course of Western thought; to trace back our own roots; to serve as reminder of our customs and traditions; and to recall all that has been lost and left behind.
The intention has been to incite discussion, to invite one another into a sense of acceptance, so that generations that follow can be inspired by us. It is not only a matter of racial differences, but also learning to put aside those differences which divide even communities of similar racial backgrounds and ethnic origins.
We must, for the sake of that which is left of our humanity, maintain the fact that we are each a body of water. We are each a fragment of ocean, a force of nature. We must learn to coexist alongside one another so that we may thrive. So that our collective force may become that of the ocean as opposed to minuscule drops of it.
If you have to take your animals to an off-site vet, please appreciate all they do. Odds are they are fitting you in to a packed schedule, since exotic veterinarians are few and far between; and it’s probably an emergency.
I’ve been building a relationship with our vet since April and today she and her crew looked super run down and tired. So while I was waiting I went and got some healthy and a couple of unhealthy snacks and put them in a basket for the staff. They were so appreciative!
Veterinarians have one of the highest suicide rates of all professions since they see much pain and death, and they love animals so deeply. I can only imagine their frustrations when people refuse to listen and let animals suffer. So trust your vet and appreciate them. Without good vets, no institution’s collection can thrive.
I bought a new mug with glow in the dark ghosts and also a weird travel mug that would be awful for travel but good for work ghost mug and also a little satchet of tea because the satchet had ghosts on it and also ghost socks and a ghost cardigan and I’m a bad adult but my ghost collection is THRIVING
Branches, brambles, dead
leaves and heaving thoughts, all slicing into his face. Panic uncoiled in him like
a great hulking serpent, coiling slowly around his neck like a sadistic lover,
or a Hangman’s noose. His right pant leg snagged on a jagged rock and nearly
sent him tumbling into the dirt, but years upon years of honing his reflexes to
a broken-mirror sharpness saved him.
Some quick warmup sketches of a few Revecroit “space” ships. They don’t fly so much as ascend or descend, but they shift through planes and the fabrics of reality to get wherever they need to go. These three are the personal ships of the Trai Vitoque, the ruling trio of Administre ( Rev gods basically, but it’s a bit more complex than that).
The Nocturne is a standard, basic Revecroit billetroa, or bellyship; most resemble creature-themed mecha, with an inflatable gas bladder underneath used for landing– they typically shift into existence a few hundred feet above a planet or plane’s surface before dropping down.The interior of the ship consists of a series of small artificial caverns in which Silence lives during travel.
The Reventuli is Phoenix’s billetroa, consisting of several Stygian dragons stitched, lashed, and melded together through alchemy, surgery, and various magics. The dragons are kept alive and controlled through a complex series of electrical wiring and internal machinery, some of which also form the rooms inside.
Nefirian’s Celestine is a bio-fortress ship; it is said that the ceta-reptilian beast was developed and grown within one of their many laboratories before being fitted with cybernetic parts and genetically enhanced into its current form. A mirajin bubble upon its back contains an artificial atmosphere and environment in which many experimental and collected creatures live and thrive, along with several thriving towns and a collection of arka villages. The legendary Celestial Laboratory is within as well, drifting among the clouds just below the bubble’s dome.
Just to clarify: history is past. But we are also making history as we live. We are part of a chain, not exempt from it. And “issues” such as immigration are not “issues”… immigrants are a vital part of history. Movement of people around the globe is the core of any history you’ll ever know. And can you remember the parts of history where people had the bright idea to single out groups of people to stop free movement around the globe? They are pretty awful moments that destroyed culture and art from forming, they didn’t protect it - they stunted it. They brought a lot more grey to the landscape than enlightenment. What we know as art history is a collection of ideas and allegories and visual grammar from various societies. Some of it might be seen as re-appropriation, but vitally it is always throughout what we know as European culture - cultures thrive on a collective understanding across societies. Especially visual arts. To say otherwise shows a lack of understanding of history, culture, art, and your place in the ever-changing world. A vital part of which is the movement of people. I have never seen immigration as something to worry about - I just see it as history happening around us. I suppose it’s just the most noticeable aspect of the world moving through time. When people are scared of the future for whatever reason (probably financial because the government and banks push us into states of panic to cause distractions) they look to the past - as all cultures before us have done (this is also what the allegories and visual grammar of the arts show us well) but life has changed anyway, because you can’t stop time. You just have to live with it and embrace it. You need to see yourself in a context that is almost unimaginable for most people to comprehend. We are floating in space, creating our own shared reality, the last thing we should worry about is where on this sphere people are sharing this reality.
During Queen Elsa’s reign, there is a small scientific community in Arendelle possessing great interest in her ice and its magical nature. They collect small pieces of it for observation and experimentation.
Several generations after the passing of the beloved queen, researchers make an incredible discovery.
The ice is alive somehow; it is not known how to explain it. It becomes a power source for the people of Arendelle. They become a part of it; it becomes a part of them.
The ice thrives on the collective emotions of all the people in the kingdom. In return, it provides power… longevity… protection. As it grows, it develops a consciousness of its own. A day comes when an arrogant king seeks to use it as a weapon of war, but its power proves too great to control. It overwhelms the people and leads to Arendelle’s destruction.
Even the word “Arendelle” is destroyed… that is, lost in translation. The only parts of it remaining intact are the letter “A” and it having three syllables.