avia: Text: "feel infinite with me". (feel infinite with me)
Just a resource list I am passing around.
avia: Text: "I'll keep you wild", on mountains at sunset. (keep you wild)
Prompt, from girlorpheus:


“Dancing with the rogue waves gives her peace of mind.”
(she’s on her way home)


Read more... )
avia: A person in a plague doctor mask (skull mask with a long bird beak), black and white image. (plague doctor)
warning: corrupt government/prison system, racism, murder, death penalty )

warning: violence, nightmares, death )

I want to write more stories in the universe of the first one. Where Ideas are creatures, and they can be killed.

The second one was just a rambling thing. But I like it, in some way.

I've been working on a children's book project thing most of the day, but right now, I'm struggling with converting pdf to epub... when I have it worked out, I will talk more about it and offer downloads ^v^ It's going to be a paper book too (because it is a children's book, I think that a lot of people will want the paper version to let the child hold, or to read to them at night, it's not the same reading from a computer), so, I have the proof that will be mailed to me soon, so I can see if it looks okay... I really hope it looks okay. It did in the pdf, but, computer stuffs can be so much problems....

Blackbird

Sep. 23rd, 2011 09:14 pm
avia: A smiling girl lifting up a skull mask to show her face. (happy skull girl)
I'm not sure what it is I like so much about this story, but, I like it, so, I'm reblogging it here. I think, I just feel that this song is very creepy, in a wonderful way.



Read more... )

Put stickers on bird cages at Petsmart today and put protest letters in the mailbox... for some reason, things like this take so long for me. It's not an action of a few minutes to be activist, for some people. It takes hours. And, this was only a tiny thing. But, for this, it felt worth my energy.

I wanted to do something for the autumn equinox today too, but... could not think what. Maybe it's a good day to begin using my death rosary finally. I could do that.
avia: Text: "Never love a wild thing." (never love a wild thing)


Oh, oh, oh. This. This.

Our feral heart that wants to run. Our quiet heart that wants to go home. The way we are on a constant search for wings.

What are we? I can’t answer that question for everyone, but I, I reject human form, the same way that maybe the dog rejects the way it has been shaped by vain, proud hands, rejects being squashed into a small body with a stump nose and legs that hardly run, remembers the wolf.

Perhaps, there is a secret society of species dysmorphics through the world, wolves trapped in handbag-size bodies, tigers designed by human hands for beauty and not for breathing.

Perhaps, humanity is just the first victim of a curse, a curse that washed over the land and said, we will take birds and give them not-flight, we will take coyotes and give them not-running, we will squash them into strange naked shapes. And, in anger, they will turn on the rest of the world and make it as not-wild and not-free as they are, turning wolves into handbag dogs, clipping the wings of birds and shutting them in cages.

We have been abused, we have been broken, and so, we repeat that abuse on the helpless things around us.

But I say, no more. I will not continue the abuse done to me. I will let the birds fly, even if it makes my heart ache to watch them go where I can not.
avia: Picture of numbers, shapes, and stars falling in a night sky. (falling numbers)

Inside and Outside Safety (warning from the top of the post: Mentions of violence towards PwD, both external and internal. Passing mention of the R-word and of a cat dying.):

We are told that in order to save ourselves from the violence out there we must do everything we can to look normal out there.

And when we do look normal out there, they pretend that no violence is being done to us. Too often, they forget the violence that they did or dismissed to make us this way. Too often, they will always dismiss that it left us with violence in our heads.

As time goes on I try to unlearn the violence that was taught to me. I try to uproot the strongholds that tell me how wrong and bad it is of me, how selfish, to want to be okay with myself. This process isn’t helped by living in a society that reaffirms that all the bad things are because I’m wrong, I’m deviant, I’m disabled and I dare to try not to hide from it.

Disabled, Not Different (warning: ableism, violence against autistic people, sexual abuse, bullying, use of words "human" and "not human" to describe disabled people):

I could be a manic-pixie-dream-girl, right? That was like the epitome of different, and I was so very, very different. I only wore skirts, and I said strange things and repeated things over and over and scratched patterns out on my skin. Surely I just needed love, friendship, someone to save me who also needed me to save them.

I discovered, though, that manic-pixie-dream-girls don’t bang their heads, and when someone touches them they know how to let themselves be touched. They see the world differently, but it’s an endearing and quirky and acceptable and unremittingly real view, not one that is confused and forgetful and blurred and above all fleeting. They use words differently, but they use the same words as everyone else and they seem to mean the same things.

People like manic-pixie-dream-girls. Some people even like nerds, and gifted students, and kids who spend their Saturdays painting sets.

People didn’t like me.

They were so nice to me, carefully working at smoothing out my edges until I fit into one or another of the acceptable differences they offered me, and I was so ungrateful and selfish and obsessive, not cooperating with any of it.

The second one is a little speciesist, assuming that everyone identifies as human, but, these are amazing in all other ways. I feel like I want to rock with happiness just thinking about how well they say the words I thought so often. How it's only "okay" with society to be different if you are inside a certain narrow limit of "different", acceptably different. How, being forced to act normal when you don't feel normal, to hide your own identity because it is thought as shameful, is abuse.

I needed these essays so much. Thank you, writers.

avia: A dark haired girl sitting without concern in a winter scene, with a large heart next to her feet, surrounded by crows. (eat my heart out)
[Note: I wanted to write a reply to tolivealifeinflame's death angel stories. I hope I have the ideas right! Let me know if I don't. I just love this world. ;w;]


Read more... )
avia: A hand holding a heart made of snow/ice. (snow glass apples)
A shared story that I write with [personal profile] whatawaytoburn... the first (quoted) part is theirs, the second part is mine.

I just really liked this, it says a lot about me, and, I wanted to keep it somewhere that's not Tumblr, because, Tumblr always feels less permanent to me for some reason I don't know.

Read more... )
avia: Painting of a swan flying against a background of city night sky. (swan flight)
Prompt from kinspeak on Tumblr:
To otherkin and therians alike, how do you think your personalities tie in with your kin-type or therio-type? Does the “human” side of you clash with the “other”? Or do they fit seamlessly together?
For me, they perfectly match.

Which is not saying that I never have more “human” feelings that clash with the “swan” feelings, but… I don’t think this is a deep clash between the girl and the swan, because, I sometimes have human feelings that clash with my other human feelings, and, swan feelings that clash with my other swan feelings. That’s a part of being alive, that your feelings don’t always match.

But, it’s not a daily war between the swan and the girl. The girl is like the swan, swan-like, sometimes gentle to those she loves, sometimes cold and distant, and the swan is like the girl, girl-like, sometimes expressing her self in ways that are not like a swan at all. Most of the time, I don’t know where one ends and the other begins, and, it seems wrong to try and pull them apart, because, they are meant to be whole.

Read more... )

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little swan child

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