Just Yappin - Blog Posts

a perspective on sonder

Sometimes, I wonder how one can be so close-minded. Selfish, even. Basking in the dying light of a summer evening, letting it wash over my face, I silently watch as one of my friends swats mindlessly at a small fly. It's small, harmless, but they smack it down without a second thought, and I can't help but wonder if that fly had a little family somewhere out there, waiting for it. A thought pops up in my bored mind: is this fly, probably not even able to fully grasp the concept of being alive let alone other living beings, even really conscious? My brows furrow when my companion kills it in one quick motion. It might be pretentious of me, yeah, sure. It's not like I've never done the same, but I do, just for a moment, feel sorry for the little life. Had its crime been invading personal space, or, as so many artificially empathetic ones have said before me, was it being small?

A campfire crackles in the distance with the people who lit it chatting cheerfully, sat around it. Slowly, I descend into the wild grass, stretching into it and feeling every little blade on my skin. What do I gain, pretending I care? Seeing beautiful, tall flowers freshly cut down by machinery, wondering whether they had wanted to keep on living for a reason other than pure instinct. They might not even have that, do they? I deeply mourn the loss of something unfamiliar, a stranger; something people consider a weed. So should I, and yet I don't. Maybe I do it to feel morally superior. Maybe I just want to elevate myself from the rest, pretend like I am in any way better. Neither of those reasons makes me any less selfish than my peers, whom I condescendingly looked down upon; rendering me the very person I tried so desperately not to be.

It is strange to think about the fact the lives not so far from mine can be so, so different. Really, it is pretty obvious, and yet I vividly remember seeing my neighbour in some odd place, breaking my perception of them as just my neighbour, something out of my field of vision, completely, forcing me to realize that they're so much more, have an own life, an own soul. A person that probably sees me as just their neighbour, like I did moments ago. It is apparent and logical, and yet I was, embarrassingly enough, never really aware of it. Sighing, I rise to my feet, grazing carefully on the lawn. The warm, salty breeze flows over from the sea and fills my lungs.. Soft waves crashing on the shore, I look over to my fellow sheep again, tormenting and being tormented by flies again.

And I wonder if humans would ever understand.

Sometimes I have a fear that everything I like will cease to exist as soon as it is my time to earn and spend adult money.

Like every idol group I would want to see disbands, Nintendo would just close all of their stores out if the blue, merch of something turns into dust and are now a superduper ultra rare collectible and countries I would want to visit suddenly are on the brink of an economic crisis and all hell brakes lose

But then I remember I will literally turn 18 this year and the bridge between things I want or want to experience is pretty much becoming non existent.

here is my most detailed WIP (that I abandoned)

I wanted it to look like her promotional art so much that I spent kinda like a week just on the sketch. I would just open it the next day find a mistake and redo it over and over. I was coloring the hair piece by piece so that it would be accurate to the game art

kinda just got bored and my perfectionist side took over never even bothered to finish this one

(Im also a furina kinnie btw)

Been thinking about an early seasons spencer and a Carmen Sandiego type reader. He’d be all flustered all while you’d be flirting your way through your own interrogation.

Would yall read that??

OMG US MOOD I SWEAR

I love the pjo fandom but I haven’t read the books but I would really love to cause I am ALWAYS SO CONFUSED when yall talk about everything, I HAVE NO FREAKING IDEA which cabin i am I feel like I have similarities with EVERY CABIN