writer | sleeper | learner ♥️ a sucker for good food & entertainment
156 posts
Crystalthevampirate - Crystal The Vampirate - Tumblr Blog
meta lately: hello :) we've made these handy little updates that'll make your life oh so hellishly more difficult for the next few months *force-feeds me confetti with a spoon*
2022
January
finished: 2 books | avg. rating: 3.5 stars favorite: Keskeneräisten Tarujen Kirja 1980 by J.R.R. and Christopher Tolkien
February
finished: 0 books. Scandalous, I know.
March
finished: 5 books | avg. rating: 3.2 stars favorite: The Gods of Mars 1913 by Edgar Rice Burroughs
it's tough tho, I've enjoyed the Barsoom books more than I expected from 20th century pulp
April
finished: 1 book, which I rated 3/5 stars, and refuse to call a favorite
May
finished: 4 books | avg. rating: 3.0 stars favorite: Phantom of the Opera 1910 by Gaston Leroux
June
finished: 2 books | avg. rating: 4.0 stars favorite: Jazz 1992 by Toni Morrison
July
finished: 2 books | avg. rating: 2.5 stars favorite: The Scarlet Letter 1850 by Nathaniel Hawthorne
August
finished: 4 books & an unhealthy amount of research papers | avg. rating: 3.5 stars favorite: Kultaraha nurkan alla 2000 by Maria Vuorio
September
finished: 3 books | avg. rating: 3.33..3 stars favorite: The Master and Margarita 1967 by Mikhail Bulgakov
there goes my 22 reading goal. this has been a comfortable phase, I think next year I'll try for 50, if my situation doesn't drastically change.
absolutely adored the Devil's Lot visiting Moscow, too <3
October
finished: 2 books (I think) | avg. rating: 3.5 stars favorite: The Vampire Lestat 1985 by Anne Rice
November
finished: 3 books | avg. rating: 3 stars favorite: Of Mice and Men 1937 by John Steinbeck
December
finished: 2 books & lots of shorts | avg. rating: 3.5 stars favorite: how to compare..
That's it, final update! 30/22 books finished. No doubt The Master and Margarita was the most fun I had this year. 2023 here
Week’s reads with pictures | my (unsatisfying) Goodreads profile
~𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔦𝔡𝔡𝔩𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔞𝔫 𝔢𝔭𝔦𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔲𝔢, 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔟𝔬𝔬𝔨 𝔱𝔬 𝔢𝔫𝔡
left - vasen right - oikea
I write with my left hand. Kirjoitan vasemmalla kädellä.
Turn left at the corner. Käänny kulmasta vasemmalle.
Do I sit on their right? Istunko hänen oikealla puolellaan?
Bonus: unlike many languages, Finnish has names for eight points of the compass instead of four. So between cardinal directions (pääilmansuunnat) we call ordinal directions (väli-ilmansuunnat) NE, SE, SW & NW by their very own words.
'Ilma' means 'air' and 'suunta' is 'direction', so literally these are called 'air/wind directions', or 'directions of (the) air'
hey.
especially if you've ever struggled with eating/eating healthy/remembering to eat, you shouldn't use meals as a reward.
a treat can be a motivator, food in general can't.
you need to eat, even if you're not being super productive, or putting out your best work. everyone needs to take five every now and then. touch some grass, stretch, have a snack. remember to stay hydrated -not just when it's melting-hot, but all year 'round.
best wishes!
how completely average and cisgender of me to write pages on pages about why I deserve to have surgery..
I have no idea how to keep it neat with so many wildly unrelated things going on.. I've decided to try something before it gets out of hand, so some of the tags in the pinned are pretty deserted to start with. I'm gon' do whatever for a year or so, see what sticks. getting a ware-overdo, so hopefully I'll at least be getting back into music & some edits soon :)
Poetry Snap fiction
Queer -related Other non-fiction
site: crystaly.art
second feed for slightly chaotic reblogs & fandom things
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sexual violence, murder/death, body horror, mental illness, teenage drug use & sexuality, blood, politics, moral chaos, language, obscure references & questionable humor
(dead dove, do not eat)
He sat at the end of the table in a high chair looking awfully sad. His eyes were gleaming, but he didn't cry, only looked without seeing. He trembled ever so slightly, when I put my hand on his. When no one said anything for a long time, finally I took a seat to his left and poured us both some tea. It smelled mild, swirled with dark herbs, like the brew itself were also sad. Everything looked delicious, but in the end no one had a bite.
After everyone had left, when I'd gathered the dishes and was blowing out the candles, he spoke. Though his voice was quiet as the rustling wind, it startled me. 'I should have noticed' he said. I blinked. A million things rushed through my mind. All wrong things to say. 'I should have noticed, Alice' he repeated, raising his eyes to look at me. He was at the brink of shattering. Suddenly he stood, whisked everything in arms reach off the table, and fell back again. Then, after being closed off for so long, he could finally cry. 'We could have..' His voice broke. The shatters of porcelain crunched under my step. I knelt. I took his hands, and kissed them, but I felt empty.
Pronouns 101
Finnish personal- & demonstrative pronouns Subject on the left, possessive on the right
English personal pronouns (Reflexive pronouns are a whole thing. More on that later..)
Idk what type of pronoun 'it' is, officially, but it felt natural to include here
English demonstrative pronouns. Nice and simple
I'm no expert on linguistic terms. I'm just here as a bilingual, introducing people to Finnish due to popular demand. Please don't butcher me
art films, thrillers, camp horror: this is what's wrong with the world
us, the children of that world: um, yes please?
tags to reach, tags to file (even if The System only makes sense to you) & tags to scream -not like on the post, but On_the_Post can, and do coexist
People point out the dreadful John/Joan case, (dr. Money did do useful research in his time too, but, ew) and somehow frame it as evidence against trans people. Absurd, since the results are actually proof, that neither sex & biological factors, nor the environment (upbringing, social roles etc.) affect our gender -just the extend to which we're comfortable expressing & discussing it. Poor David was a boy. He didn't turn into a girl, despite the sex reassignment surgeries, and being shoved into the feminine mold by his social surroundings. Which made him extremely uncomfortable. (I won't go into details, the life of the Reimer twins was a tragedy, but do read up, if you're interested.)
I've heard some extreme people claim we're 'making people (think they're) trans', or encouraging children to have surgery. I've never heard this happen, but it exists in these people's minds. I would agree; it's a terrible idea to actively try & change someone's gender experience. We shouldn't be messing with children's healthy genitals. No one should be forced to abide by gender roles. Thing is, that's exactly what the world is currently doing to many trans & intersex (as well as cis) kids. I wish the general public would understand how crucial this is.
In the woods near our house everything grows in circles. There's tall trees, but no leaves on the moss and the stars cast shadows like it's daytime. I made a soup one time of the mushrooms I found in each corner of the wood. White mushrooms, with wide hats, that taste like honey and cotton sugar. The recipe was for a soup, everyone had it at my birthday party, but it was titled 'making a savior' and it's a little strange I can't seem to find my way out of our yard, where the people don't look like my friends at all..
Some days I will look into the mirror and see a stranger. Or looking back at me might be someone I've been searching desperately on another day, yet now grieve to see. It is not that I'm a stranger to myself, my soul I know, but these expressions, they don't belong on a face I'd read as mine. This form betrays me. These feet can't carry, and this voice can't say.. it frustrates me. And I search. I run these fingertips across it, sometimes enjoying bits of it, sometimes wondering if there's somehow I might mold it to better fit. But the truth is there's nothing much wrong with the body. I might admire it even, were I not trapped in it. But it doesn't feel like it should belong to me, doesn't feel right on me.
One day she walked in, and just never walked out. I'd like to say she changed my life, but it's much the same. I work at one of those old everything-stores, with the owner, who's like a hundred years old & made of steel. He owns my apartment too, so I live in it, pay=rent, and live mostly on coffee & de-shelved snacks. Occasionally I get some extra cash flipping things I find lying around & fix. It's amazing how much stuff you can carry out of parties, once you just get accepted as the guy who hauls junk around. She's the girl who makes mixtapes for her outfits. Or maybe it started the other way round, I'm not sure. What I do know is mr. Steel's place has never seen this many extravagant coats. He likes her, 'cause she wears sturdy shoes and an infectious smile. I like her, 'cause even tho nothing's changed, with her I don't feel like it needs to.
Snowed in
'Wake up' she says in the littlest voice. It's a gentle request rather than a demand, and it leaves me unable to be as annoyed as I'd sometimes like to be. Not that she uses this power overtly. Then, I think, she might soon run out. 'All right, button.. What is it?' I mutter, pushing my covers aside. 'I need to use the stove.' A quick wash-up later I follow her downstairs. The setup in the kitchen tells me exactly how urgently the stove was 'needed'. She's measured milk into a kettle with two mugs, which now sit on the counter, cocoa powder put in. A spoonful for me, three and one sugar for her, peppermint for both. She sits by in her pyjamas, frizzy head drooping. Only after we both have a steaming mug in front of us, do I address the offence 'You know, hot chocolate isn't really an emergency. I mean how early is it, anyway?' She shrugs. 'At least we'll get ya to school on time..' 'There's no school today.' I acknowledge her with a hum. Looking out the window, where white fluff is still floating around, I slowly come to the realization she's waken me, so that we could do nothing, together, for as long as possible. I point this out to her, scoldingly, but the twinkle in her eyes says she knows I'm not mad. I put the mugs into the sink with last night's dinner dishes, and pour water into the emptied kettle. I figure since we're up before the alarms, we have a few hours to waste for pleasure.