Undeadguy

YO NO WAY I JUST FOUND A PERFECT HESRT LAKE IN A DESERT BIOME

i think one thing that complicates ppls willingness to understand wild animal safety is that people often take the statement ‘this animal will kill you with no remorse’ as a morally-charged statement about that animal and will get defensive on that animals behalf, because they themselves are equating predatory behavior with ‘meanness’ and can’t imagine a situation in which an animal such as a bear or big cat could both be a delightful, fascinating animal with capacity for complex interactions with humans and also an animal who simply does not have the same social contracts or see any problem with killing an eating any other animal if it feels safe doing so to. i’ve said similar before on a broader post abt animal intelligence but like, if your appreciation for animals like bears and tigers is ruined by the idea that there’s nothing you can do to prevent a bear or tiger from seeing you as potential food (short of raising it in a way that would be extremely mentally damaging for the animal, lmao), then that’s problem with your own limits to compassion for animals lmao.

it’s wrong to equate an animals carnivory to it being ‘bad’ and its fair to point out how that’s been historically used to demonize animals like wolves but it’s no better to pretend an animal isn’t what it is for your own comfort.

A Series Of Analogies And Bitterness

 I am a writer. This is more an affirmation than a statement of fact. I’m not sure if you’ve ever done that thing where you make a list of affirmations before. I have. Did it last week. I’m seeing a counselor for my depression and anxiety. The idea was to create a list of true statements about myself, good things. The fun part is that you don’t always believe them.

 The statement “I am a writer” is an affirmation because while it is objectively true, I struggle to believe it. Of course I’m a writer. I love writing stories and journals. I’m a creative writing major. Writing is my everything. It’s cheesy, but it’s true. I write to cope, celebrate, vent, relax, everything. You may be wondering now “if she’s obviously a writer, why can’t she believe it?” Well, nameless reader, I can’t believe it because, for the past two weeks, I have written a grand total of 20 pages.

 Writing is my everything, and yet I find myself scooped out like a goddamn pumpkin. Actually, no, because a pumpkin has a chance to become a grinning jack o'lantern. I’m scooped out like a grave. There is nothing beautiful left in me. Just something putrid and rotting. I am full of dead ideas and wriggling maggots that are gnawing at my finger bones as I try in vain to squeeze life out of a bloated corpse called creativity.

 This is all I can do now. I can type. I type out words that are close to truth and I settle. I settle because I’ve lost everything. Sure, I’ve got family and most of my health and I’ve got food and I’ve got an education. But what’s the point? I live to write and vice versa. What’s the point if I can’t do the one thing I’m certain of?

 I am haunted by blank word documents. They’re always on my screen. I type out a line and delete it because it goes nowhere. Lines are supposed to be infinite. It’s a fact of math class that actually stuck with me. Just because we only see part of the line, doesn’t stop it being infinite. My lines aren’t infinite. They lay on the page, just a collection of letters that happen to form some statement or action that would be better articulated by a child’s rag doll.

 I’ve officially hit 21 pages in two weeks. Brilliant. 

 Hell is real, and it is a room full of blank pages and flashing cursors.

anyway. onto better things

Mahmoud Darwish, from Memory for Forgetfulness: August, Beirut, 1982 (tr. Ibrahim Muhawi)

before i watched the show i deadass thought hannibal was a dentist

he should have been. he could have gone on his crazy monologues and then been like “don’t you think?” while inspecting someone’s teeth and they’d be like mhmnhkhgdjfbhfjrh

core classes as undead :)

Guide to Whole Foods

the most romantic of pins