the ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ has only been actually typed once by a single person, everyone else who has ever used it has just googled “shrug emoji” and copy-pasted it
why repaint the mona lisa
As someone who has painstakingly typed it out because I forgot there were other options, I can guarantee my forgery was not up to the quality of the original.
did you install a katakana keyboard just to type it or did you have to Google “katakana alphabet” or something and copypaste from that
Pretty sure I just did a vaguely cursed bootleg thing like this:
-\_(“✓)_/-
that’s a guy who has lost control of his life. there is no more cheerful nihilism in his smile, no more mischief in his eyes. that’s an emoticon with clinical depression
the worst part about being an adult is thay its no longer socially acceptable to just roll down a really big hill and then run back up it and roll back down again. “oh is this a syphilis metaphor” passerby would ask. “is this for a tick tock”. no i just wanna come home covered in dirt and scratches and bask in the the solace of childlike mirth
Cheap acrylic paint with cheapest brushes and with all the talent you have and/or do not have and it literally does not matter where you are on that spectrum because it’s Yours, it is Your Spooky Decorations for Your Haunted Home.
Plain paper shaped, cut, folded, stamped, patterned. Old books that are destined for the landfill because they are ruined yet have a few good pages that can be cut apart.
The library is full of craft books with ideas on how to turn cheap, plain, color printer paper into everything.
Decoration stores are full of dollar bins.
I say this as someone who is building a Halloween art company: not every piece of Halloween art need be purchased.
So easy to forget.
So important to remember.
You always have the option of making a lot of your own Halloween art – from scratch, from kits, and/or blending the two.
“Oh the media being biased/silent on Gaza is a conspiracy theory”
I am a literal journalist and this is what happened when I pitched an article to a magazine I write for:
We covered conflict before. We denounced PMs’ positions as wrong before. But this is where the editor balks - anything that makes it look even vaguely like we might, possibly, support Gaza. Even if the article itself would not have been an opinion piece, but a news feature about events on the ground.
We have free press, baby! But avoid the matter entirely if you can. It’s delicate and depressing, why would you talk about it? Don’t rock the boat. Be quiet. You don’t need to go there.
The most soul crushing thing is being in your mid to late 20’s and comparing yourself with your peers. One of them is married, one has an amazing job, one just bought a house, one is pregnant, one is very successful. And you look at yourself and you have none of these accomplishments, you still feel like a kid inside, you’re the same age but really you feel so much younger, so behind. You’re living in different worlds, different lives, so far apart. And you observe them and all you want is to be like them, all grown, all independant and functional. And then the fear creeps in: What if I will never get there? What if my mental issues are always gonna keep me in the same place? And that feeling, that huge fear and doubt and incapability, I wonder if that’s what they meant when they talk about a “quarter life crisis”. You’re gonna get there, in your own time. This is a normal experience millions of people our age have and have always had. It will be ok.
And then one day you’re in your mid to late 40’s. A lot of your friends with the “perfect” marriages are divorced now; the ones with the “perfect” jobs burned out early, or succumbed to the grind. Some have kids, some don’t. Some found their passions at work, some crashed and burned spectacularly, some are working a job for the paycheck to support their hobby of making their little clay animals or tending their backyard chickens. You? You know what you want, now. It’s not the same as what you wanted when you were 25. In fact, you’re kind of glad you didn’t get those things then, because you became wise, at some point, while you weren’t looking. You know now, in a way you never did when you were young, that your brain isn’t actually that weird, and there are so many people like you, and all of them, including you, deserve to feel good and loved and cared for. You still feel like you’re about 12 on the inside, but everybody else does too. You’ve learned to be kind, not least to yourself. You’re happy more often than you’re sad. You have people you love richly, and who love you. You laugh all the time. One day you sit by the lake in the late afternoon autumn sunlight and you think about being 25, and how you were convinced your life was already over, and you smile, and think to yourself, I’m so glad I’m here.
