Reblog With Your Personality Types Bolded, For Your Own Reference, Or For Your Followers To Get To Know

m o o d b o a r d ; asexual pride

💐🌷🌹🌺🌻🌸🌼 send this to ten other bloggers you think are wonderful. keep the game going. 🌼🌸🌻🌺🌹🌷💐

*rakes all the flower emojis together and jumps into them like a pile of leaves* 🌼🌸🌹🤗🌻🌺🌷

10 Questions Meme

I was tagged by unluckyycat. (And I'm terribly flattered. Thank you!)

rule 1: always post the rules rule 2: answer the questions from the person who tagged you rule 3: tag 10 people and link them in your post rule 4: let them know you’ve tagged them

1. What names did you like growing up that you wish you could have changed yours to?

Ahah, well. As a child I didn't covet other people's names so much as furtively dislike my own. Still, when I was very little my mother found me out and decided the best course of action was to rechristen me "Stinky Mud" and only call me that until I admitted that my birth name wasn't so bad after all... Anyway, once I was twelve and could brave the possibility of it  happening again (it didn't) I've been going by Jack.

2. What’s your favourite shirt look like?

Mind if I give you the top two? I'm torn between them. (It feels like there's some kind of awful fabric pun in there somewhere, but I'll spare us - this time.)

3. How do you take your hot beverage of choice?

Coffee. That's my choice hot beverage, and I take it with sweetened condensed milk and a touch of vanilla. That, or with two sugar cubes and a splash of cream. 4. Any scars with cool stories you’d care to share?

Oh, there are a few - I'm prone to minor accidents. Lately my favorites are these, though:

That's what happens when you carelessly scrape chopped vegetables from your cutting board into a skillet full of overheated oil. In uprolled sleeves. 

5. What’s the best bad decision you’ve ever made?

This one's been boggling my mind since I first read it through, and I think it's because I ultimately can't regard a decision as having been a bad one if it produced a good result. But I've got it now:

One morning on the bus to my high school I was pressed against the window listening to Joy Division on my CD player, when I heard a voice I didn't recognize cutting through the music. Worse, no matter how high I turned the volume, or how hard I crushed the earphones up against my ears, I couldn't come close to drowning her out. Usually, this early, everyone on the bus was half-asleep - but I could hear every word out of this girl's mouth with infuriating clarity. By the time we hit the schoolyard I was livid. So when I noticed my friend Ringo kicking his heels outside around the back of the bus I marched myself right up to the toes of his boots and launched into a tirade, complete with a mocking imitation of what I considered to be one of the more ridiculous parts of her overheard conversation - something to do with her boyfriend incorrectly registering on her caller ID as "Robert Smith", and it being fate because she was such a fan of The Cure. I think I was positively snorting with derision at this point. (As you might have gathered by now, sophomore carletoncolton was a bit of an ass.) And that's when Ringo cut in, "That's my girlfriend".

Haha... honestly, I don't remember how I didn't faint after that what with all the blood draining out of my face. The upshot of it all is, that when Ringo told the girlfriend in question what I'd said she only laughed. We're BFFLs now. 6. Do you remember most of your dreams when you wake up?

For the most part, no, I don't - unless they're either so mundane that I worry for the health of my imagination, or so strange that I'm convinced someone else must've dreamed them.

Example of the former: I have a recurring dream where all that happens is that I wake up in my S.O.'s house, don a pair of my politer, more presentable pajamas, and sit down to a meal at the counter bar or the dining room table. I eat it alone, in silence, with an especially small fork, and then pack my dishes away in the dishwasher when I've finished. That's it, really. I have noticed, though, that if it's after dark in the dream then everyone else is asleep, the cat included, the windows closed and all the blinds shuttered, with only the light over the kitchen sink on. And if it's light out, then all the windows and doors are open, the sun is scorching and almost too bright, and the house is empty. Excepting me and the cat, of course.

Example of the latter: About a week ago I had an unsettlingly detailed dream in which my seventeen-year-old brother, a very technical person with an eye for coding and computer hardware assembly, helped me into a full military-grade black stealth camouflage suit complete with mask and night-vision goggles. Think Splinter Cell, Metal Gear, that sort of thing. He handled all the closures and straps on the back of the suit and I the ones in front. It was dark outside, and we were standing in my old bedroom at my great-grandfather's house as it looked before I moved in - unfurnished, with pastel pink and blue wallpaper. We were crowded near the small open widow; the neighbor's security spotlight, bolted over their garage door, filtered through the chain link fence and gave the whole scene a harsh yellow quality. My brother and I didn't speak, but stared unblinkingly at each other, faces neutral. Our entire family has nearly identical dark brown eyes and I remember being uncomfortably aware of the similarity just then. The whole thing had a hushed, anticipatory quality about it... but the oddest part was that we both knew we were doing this so I could sneak through the window and pick blackberries from the field across the street before the sun came up. In the (real) morning I rolled out of bed bewildered and craving them. 7. What are you hoping happens this week for you?

It'd be everything if I got a response out of any, really any, of the job applications I've sent out recently. Or ever. 8. What’s the biggest, most exciting travel destination of your dreams?

My family has never been more than a lost paycheck or two away from eviction, between evictions, so we haven't ever traveled other than to visit relatives - and that was with help. I've been resigned to things remaining the same way for me all my life for years now. So... I haven't got one. Still, I would like to go back to southern Georgia someday. To visit. I can't say that I enjoyed living there; as a mixed-race asexual atheist it could be distinctly unpleasant, even if only the first and last of those descriptors were obvious to the people around me. The place itself, though... sometimes I have dreams about kneeling outside in the knee-high grass at night, curling my fingers into the red soil, or lying on my roof in the summer until the searing heat of the sun overhead permeates my body to the bone and I see the veins illuminated in my closed eyelids. I'm always cold on some level, in Michigan. 9. How many songs are on your MP3 player of choice? Do you listen to them all?

I could tell you exactly if I hadn't lost it like the bumbler I am, haha. My YouTube favorites playlist, though, has one hundred and sixty-five songs on it, all of which I do listen to. Add my other, artist-specific lists (Lana Del Rey, Blur, Gorillaz, Damon Albarn, Massive Attack, etc.), and that number goes up to three hundred and nine. Less than I'd have thought, actually. 10. Any tattoos? Any plans for more/your first one?

No, and no. Well. There aren't any concrete plans.

Aaaaand done! *pats brow* Whew. Call me a poor sport, but this time 'round I won't be writing any new questions or tagging anyone - the way I write, if I ever wanted to get this thing posted sacrifices had to be made. (;¬_¬) That, and I've already tagged just about everyone I think'd tolerate me asking once before.

Asexual Awareness Week: Day 2

[IMAGE: A 9x9 aesthetic layout; the images are as follows, top to bottom, left to right: A person launching a Chinese lantern, A crumpled up piece of paper with “Don’t Forget Me” written on it, a bed of flowers of varying shades of purple, “You are good enough” written on a purple note, A white neon light in the shape of a realistic heart, A hand covered in purple, blue and white paint, A hand rising out of purple and blue smoke, A notebook and palette of purple paints, A newspaper with “You are born and then you die, but in between you can do anything you want. It’s society that creates rules for us, but you can break out of that” in enlarged text.]

Let's see if I can get this right...

Heterosexual: Fuck that.

Homosexual: Fuck this.

Bisexual: Fuck you and also you.

Pansexual: Fuck everything.

Demisexual: Fuck you in particular.

Asexual: Fuck no.

// Creepy & Cryptid // Asexual // Moodboard //

“Speak with such a screech. You’ll shake and shudder in surprise when you hear those zombies shriek” 

{{Please Don’t Repost Without Permission}}

// Ask Box is Open for Requests (Phone Wallpapers as Available) //

Archaeology & Art@archaeologyart·

Golden cicada on a jade leaf, Ming dynasty (1368-1644). This sculpture was discovered in a tomb in 1954: it is the top of a hairpin, belonging to a woman of high rank. The imagery of a cicada on a leaf had a double meaning and was a high compliment paid to beautiful women. .

nicegoth replied to your photo “Scrapbook #16: Hostiles (Click for full-size image.) Other entries in...”

wow this is so cool

Thank you! Would you believe that this is the first bit of feedback I've ever gotten on any of my scrapbook pieces? (I'll bet you would, actually.)

But honestly, it means more to me to receive it than I can say. So much of my work, and especially this series in particular, is (sometimes literally) built on what has personal significance to me, and so little has ever been said about any of it besides what can be implied by the occasional like, reblog, or follow that I haven't been able to help wondering if the appeal really went beyond myself. Not that I'm saying that I'm not delighted with every note and follower I do get! Quite the contrary - but this is something I've been missing, and I very much appreciate it. And while I'm at it... followers, passersby, everyone; hello! If any of you at anytime have questions for me, or anything of the like, please, don't be shy.