@neophyte-no1 / neophyte-no1.tumblr.com
I am 18+, cannot guarantee the safety of anyone on this blog, and most often do not tag; as such, this is meant to be an 18+ space. I value respect over purity, and have a habit of defending snakes. I believe maggots should be defended, but struggle to, given the dangers posed by flies. I am probably sometimes pretentious, but I am not trying to be. I am a person.
Google isn't the only search engine in the whole internet, there are others! And we need to diversify our search engine usage or we're gonna end up where we were a decade and change ago with the Internet Explorer issue. We can't let a single brand monopolize everything! This is why Google Search can afford to suck so hard: because people use it regardless! And there are alternatives.
A little bit about search engines, there are 3 types: crawlers, which work by scraping the web and developing their own indexes; metas, which get their results from the crawler-type search engines and therefore depend entirely upon them; and mixed, those which have their own (small) index but also pull results from the crawlers.
Right now, there are a couple of independant crawlers apart from Google, Bing (from Mycrosoft) and Yandex (the Russian one): this are Mojeek and Wiby.
Mojeek.com is an independant british search engine with its own growing index commited to fighting internet censorship. It's small, and therefore it's usability isn't as good as that of the Big Three, but it doesn't censor, it's fairly respectful of people's privacy, and it doesn't drown you in adds. For those old enough to remember, it's a lot like early 2000s Google: you can find what you need, but if you write "dig shelter" instead of "dog shelter", that's what it's gonna search for. That said, please try to use it and support it as much as you can before we end up entirely dependant on Google, Bing and big corps adds. [click here to go to Mojeek]
Wiby.me is a new indie project that is literally dedicated to bringing back the old-school web. It's goal is to index as many personalized websites as possible, and NOT commercial sites. So, for those of you who can't find any answers to technical questions beyond highschool level because Google buries them under a gazillion commercial sites and other meaningless shit, keep an eye on this project! It has a lot of potential. And, if you know of any personal websites that have great stuff but have been murdered by Google, you can go over to Wiby and submit it to their index. [click here to go to Wiby]
Aside from those, there are also meta search engines you can use to ween yourself off Google and search for random, day to day stuff.
Qwant.com is my go-to here—it has its own index and pulls from Bing, has relatively little censorship, and is fairly private. This is the one I use on my phone for everyday stuff. [click here to go to Qwant].
Historically, DuckDuckGo has always been a go-to for those who want a search engine that respects your privacy and doesn't censor. Personally, I've never been a fan, and there have been a LOT of scandals in recent years. It supposedly has its own index and pulls from Bing, much like Qwant, but I don't know. I just don't like it. Still, I've added it here for completeness' sake.
If you have Firefox Mobile browser, you can set any of these search engines as your default search engine and you can also add the others as secondary search engines and switch quicky from the navigation bar. If you don't have firefox mobile though, what are you doing with your life??? Go get it!! It is So. Much. Better. You can have add blockers and watch YouTube add free, for free! You can have reader mode and dark mode add-ons! You can have the world oh my goshhhh, drop Chrome!!
4get.ca is my last recommendation: it works a lot like SearX, but honestly better. It doesn't have its own index, but pulls from many others. I think it's the best for reaserch, since it allows you to search for answers from different indexes, is easy to configure, add free, and avoids censorship as much as it can. It's also very privacy conscious, so that's an other plus, and it has that late 90s / early 2000s vibe that I totally dig. [click here to go to 4get]
If you wanna learn more about the topic, you can over to the Search Engine Map [click here] which shows you a bunch of Search Engines and how they relate to each other. Or you can also go over to this one dude's personal website whose done A Lot of reaserch into the topic (way more than me) and seems to be pretty legit, if a little extra. [click here to go to digdeeper.neocities.org] Hope this infodump is useful to someone =D
PS: here's to hoping all the links work!
EDIT: eliminated the "read more". Figured there are enough mega long posts in tumblr, one more won't make no difference lol (tho the version w the read more has been reblogged already, in case you'd rather)
If a worker who isn't the owner says ANYTHING similar to "I'm not really supposed to do this but-" and then does something that helps you, under no circumstances inform the business, including through reviews. You tell them that the worker was polite, professional, the very model of customer service and why you like to go there. You do not breathe a word of the rulebreaking.
Employee-customer solidarity
Even if they don't- Your review can be the thing that wrecks someone up accidentally;
"Janie was so helpful when I wanted to buy a new washing machine on Friday, she stayed with me for half an hour and wasn't pushy at all, we had a good laugh about our cats' silly antics and she got Adam and Suzy to carry it to the car for me- 10/10 excellent service, I'd come back any day!"
-But Management has a policy that workers should spend no more than 10 focused minutes on any customer at a time, and that they should always try to upsell the insurance and the higher price model, so Janie was breaking policy.
-And they aren't supposed to have their phones on the sales floor, so now Janie is going to be quizzed on whether she was showing photos of her cat to a customer.
-Adam is a warehouse worker and shouldn't have been in the front-of-house at all, Suzy is a porter, and store policy is both to use a trolley to move heavy items, and that only the porters should do it, so now Janie is in trouble for pulling Adam off-task, Adam is in trouble for walking through the shop floor, and Suzy is in trouble for poor handling procedure. Maybe the store even has a paid delivery service that Janie was supposed to upsell as soon as you said "I can't put this in my car without help", so this was all against policy.
Your review should always be as bland as possible, "10/10, five star service, will shop here again, thank you to Janie at the Town Street branch" You NEVER know what was technically a rule-break, capitalism is not your friend, the review process is part of the panopticon.
FIVE STARS, TEN OUT OF TEN, VERY GOOD, NOTHING MORE.
There's Socratic dialogue, and then there's the platonic ideal of it, I suppose. I'm not totally sure what that even means. Although, I feel as though I vaguely recognize that monk... Well, no matter. It appears that Team Cockroach (quite the unkillable moniker) could catch Kira and survive, although there were a lot of people who said that they would not survive... But still would catch Kira. I'm hearing a lot of whispers that they may be dead to begin with? Preposterous - we would have seen death certificates, at the very least. Let's move on, then.
I can’t believe i forgot to post this, chag sameach guys 😂
Don't abandon that in the tags.
Some gay men have also described being praised by people who know that they are gay fathers, as they react with astonishment over their capacity to take well care of a child without a woman in the household. Likewise, the participants in the present study described how they were recurrently praised, simply for taking care of their children. Such praise was given in situations where they had been read as fathers, i.e., presumably passing as cisgender men. One participant described a huge difference in how he was treated by people who presumed him to be a cisgender man, compared to when he was known to be a transgender man. As soon as people knew that he was transgender, and that he was the gestational parent, he was expected to be the main caregiver, and no one would praise him for his daily duties. Thus, caretaking engagements, which is often taken for granted when performed by women, seem to be similarly expected to be performed by transgender men who are gestational parents. The gender assigned at birth and/or the role as the gestational parent seem to trump the present gender identity when it comes to others’ expectations of a person’s parenting role.
Victor described how the disclosing of him as a transgender person, and the gestational parent of his children, generally affected what people expected of him as a parent. Those who knew that he was a transgender man put different expectations on his parenthood, compared to those who assumed him to be a cisgender man. Further, he experienced how people who knew that he was the gestational parent put different expectations on him compared to his cisgender husband. "I get far more questions about parenting and the like than what I perceive that my husband gets. I’m ascribed an expectation of expertise in things that, that, well, basically everything to do with parenting, […] my experience is that it is very clearly related to me being trans, that it would, I’m expected to possess some sort of universal knowledge, of knowing everything that men should know, and knowing everything that women know." Viktor’s experience was that people who were informed that he was a transgender man and the gestational parent put expectations on him to fulfill the role of a mother and a primary parent. He explained how he, unlike his husband, was expected to ensure that the children had appropriate clothing for the weather, to attend parent-teacher meetings, and to be ready to pick up his children at preschool when they were sick.
the level of trust between her and that horse must be MASSIVE
A scorpion, not knowing how to swim, asked a frog to carry it across the river. “Do I look like a fool?” said the frog. “You’d sting me if I let you on my back!”
“Be logical,” said the scorpion. “If I stung you I’d certainly drown myself.”
“That’s true,” the frog acknowledged. “Climb aboard, then!” But no sooner than they were halfway across the river, the scorpion stung the frog, and they both began to thrash and drown. “Why on earth did you do that?” the frog said morosely. “Now we’re both going to die.”
“I can’t help it,” said the scorpion. “It’s my nature.”
___
…But no sooner than they were halfway across the river, the frog felt a subtle motion on its back, and in a panic dived deep beneath the rushing waters, leaving the scorpion to drown.
“It was going to sting me anyway,” muttered the frog, emerging on the other side of the river. “It was inevitable. You all knew it. Everyone knows what those scorpions are like. It was self-defense.”
___
…But no sooner had they cast off from the bank, the frog felt the tip of a stinger pressed lightly against the back of its neck. “What do you think you’re doing?” said the frog.
“Just a precaution,” said the scorpion. “I cannot sting you without drowning. And now, you cannot drown me without being stung. Fair’s fair, isn’t it?”
They swam in silence to the other end of the river, where the scorpion climbed off, leaving the frog fuming.
“After the kindness I showed you!” said the frog. “And you threatened to kill me in return?”
“Kindness?” said the scorpion. “To only invite me on your back after you knew I was defenseless, unable to use my tail without killing myself? My dear frog, I only treated you as I was treated. Your kindness was as poisoned as a scorpion’s sting.”
___
…“Just a precaution,” said the scorpion. “I cannot sting you without drowning. And now, you cannot drown me without being stung. Fair’s fair, isn’t it?”
“You have a point,” the frog acknowledged. “But once we get to dry land, couldn’t you sting me then without repercussion?”
“All I want is to cross the river safely,” said the scorpion. “Once I’m on the other side I would gladly let you be.”
“But I would have to trust you on that,” said the frog. “While you’re pressing a stinger to my neck. By ferrying you to land I’d be be giving up the one deterrent I hold over you.”
“But by the same logic, I can’t possibly withdraw my stinger while we’re still over water,” the scorpion protested.
The frog paused in the middle of the river, treading water. “So, I suppose we’re at an impasse.”
The river rushed around them. The scorpion’s stinger twitched against the frog’s unbroken skin. “I suppose so,” the scorpion said.
___
A scorpion, not knowing how to swim, asked a frog to carry it across the river. “Absolutely not!” said the frog, and dived beneath the waters, and so none of them learned anything.
___
A scorpion, being unable to swim, asked a turtle (as in the original Persian version of the fable) to carry it across the river. The turtle readily agreed, and allowed the scorpion aboard its shell. Halfway across, the scorpion gave in to its nature and stung, but failed to penetrate the turtle’s thick shell. The turtle, swimming placidly, failed to notice.
They reached the other side of the river, and parted ways as friends.
___
…Halfway across, the scorpion gave in to its nature and stung, but failed to penetrate the turtle’s thick shell.
The turtle, hearing the tap of the scorpion’s sting, was offended at the scorpion’s ungratefulness. Thankfully, having been granted the powers to both defend itself and to punish evil, the turtle sank beneath the waters and drowned the scorpion out of principle.
___
A scorpion, not knowing how to swim, asked a frog to carry it across the river. “Do I look like a fool?” sneered the frog. “You’d sting me if I let you on my back.”
The scorpion pleaded earnestly. “Do you think so little of me? Please, I must cross the river. What would I gain from stinging you? I would only end up drowning myself!”
“That’s true,” the frog acknowledged. “Even a scorpion knows to look out for its own skin. Climb aboard, then!”
But as they forged through the rushing waters, the scorpion grew worried. This frog thinks me a ruthless killer, it thought. Would it not be justified in throwing me off now and ridding the world of me? Why else would it agree to this? Every jostle made the scorpion more and more anxious, until the frog surged forward with a particularly large splash, and in panic the scorpion lashed out with its stinger.
“I knew it,” snarled the frog, as they both thrashed and drowned. “A scorpion cannot change its nature.”
___
A scorpion, not knowing how to swim, asked a frog to carry it across the river. The frog agreed, but no sooner than they were halfway across the scorpion stung the frog, and they both began to thrash and drown.
“I’ve only myself to blame,” sighed the frog, as they both sank beneath the waters. “You, you’re a scorpion, I couldn’t have expected anything better. But I knew better, and yet I went against my judgement! And now I’ve doomed us both!”
“You couldn’t help it,” said the scorpion mildly. “It’s your nature.”
___
…“Why on earth did you do that?” the frog said morosely. “Now we’re both going to die.”
“Alas, I was of two natures,” said the scorpion. “One said to gratefully ride your back across the river, and the other said to sting you where you stood. And so both fought, and neither won.” It smiled wistfully. “Ah, it would be nice to be just one thing, wouldn’t it? Unadulterated in nature. Without the capacity for conflict or regret.”
___
“By the way,” said the frog, as they swam, “I’ve been meaning to ask: What’s on the other side of the river?”
“It’s the journey,” said the scorpion. “Not the destination.”
___
…“What’s on the other side of anything?” said the scorpion. “A new beginning.”
___
…”Another scorpion to mate with,” said the scorpion. “And more prey to kill, and more living bodies to poison, and a forthcoming lineage of cruelties that you will be culpable in.”
___
…”Nothing we will live to see, I fear,” said the scorpion. “Already the currents are growing stronger, and the river seems like it shall swallow us both. We surge forward, and the shoreline recedes. But does that mean our striving was in vain?”
___
“I love you,” said the scorpion.
The frog glanced upward. “Do you?”
“Absolutely. Can you imagine the fear of drowning? Of course not. You’re a frog. Might as well be scared of breathing air. And yet here I am, clinging to your back, as the waters rage around us. Isn’t that love? Isn’t that trust? Isn’t that necessity? I could not kill you without killing myself. Are we not inseparable in this?”
The frog swam on, the both of them silent.
___
“I’m so tired,” murmured the frog eventually. “How much further to the other side? I don’t know how long we’ve been swimming. I’ve been treading water. And it’s getting so very dark.”
“Shh,” the scorpion said. “Don’t be afraid.”
The frog’s legs kicked out weakly. “How long has it been? We’re lost. We’re lost! We’re doomed to be cast about the waters forever. There is no land. There’s nothing on the other side, don’t you see!”
“Shh, shh,” said the scorpion. “My venom is a hallucinogenic. Beneath its surface, the river is endlessly deep, its currents carrying many things.”
“You - You’ve killed us both,” said the frog, and began to laugh deliriously. “Is this - is this what it’s like to drown?”
“We’ve killed each other,” said the scorpion soothingly. “My venom in my glands now pulsing through your veins, the waters of your birthing pool suffusing my lungs. We are engulfing each other now, drowning in each other. I am breathless. Do you feel it? Do you feel my sting pierced through your heart?”
“What a foolish thing to do,” murmured the frog. “No logic. No logic to it at all.”
“We couldn’t help it,” whispered the scorpion. “It’s our natures. Why else does anything in the world happen? Because we were made for this from birth, darling, every moment inexplicable and inevitable. What a crazy thing it is to fall in love, and yet - It’s all our fault! We are both blameless. We’re together now, darling. It couldn’t have happened any other way.”
___
“It’s funny,” said the frog. “I can’t say that I trust you, really. Or that I even think very much of you and that nasty little stinger of yours to begin with. But I’m doing this for you regardless. It’s strange, isn’t it? It’s strange. Why would I do this? I want to help you, want to go out of my way to help you. I let you climb right onto my back! Now, whyever would I go and do a foolish thing like that?”
___
A scorpion, not knowing how to swim, asked a frog to carry it across the river. “Do I look like a fool?” said the frog. “You’d sting me if I let you on my back!”
“Be logical,” said the scorpion. “If I stung you I’d certainly drown myself.”
“That’s true,” the frog acknowledged. “Come aboard, then!” But no sooner had the scorpion mounted the frog’s back than it began to sting, repeatedly, while still safely on the river’s bank.
The frog groaned, thrashing weakly as the venom coursed through its veins, beginning to liquefy its flesh. “Ah,” it muttered. “For some reason I never considered this possibility.”
“Because you were never scared of me,” the scorpion whispered in its ear. “You were never scared of dying. In a past life you wore a shell and sat in judgement. And then you were reborn: soft-skinned, swift, unburdened, as new and vulnerable as a child, moving anew through a world of children. How could anyone ever be cruel, you thought, seeing the precariousness of it all?” The scorpion bowed its head and drank. “How could anyone kill you without killing themselves?”
A scorpion, not knowing how to swim, asked a frog to carry it across the river.
“To be honest,” said the desert rain frog. “I’m the wrong kind of frog for that.”
“Oh,” said the scorpion.
“I was hoping to find someone to carry me across, myself.” It admitted.
“Oh,” The scorpion said. “Well, we can wait together.”
And they sat, and spoke, and when a turtle happened to pass along, they both ventured together, and the scorpion was too busy sharing words to ever think of stinging.
—
“Actually,” said the scorpion, as it climbed onto the frog’s back, “My sting is harmless.”
“Oh really?” Said the frog, as it began to swim.
“Yes,” the scorpion waved the small stinger about. “The poison is useless to anything larger than a beetle. I can’t threaten you with it at all, you see, so you don’t really need to worry about it at all.”
The frog, now freed from the fear of death, began preparing to dive.
“Although,” the scorpion continued as it felt the frog slow down, “do not think me entirely defenceless.”
“Why not?” Said the frog. “All you have is your claws. And they aren’t sharp enough to pierce my skin.”
“No, they are not,” agreed the scorpion, getting a good hold of the frog’s shoulders. “But they are strong. They need to be, to hold my prey so my weak venom has time to work.”
“But they will not kill me.”
“No. But there are other ways to hurt.” The scorpion tightened its grip, letting the teeth of its claws sink into the skin.
“You will drown me, of course, but my claws will remain locked. My drowned corpse will hang over your shoulders, right here, claws buried in you. And everyone who sees you will see it. And they will see my frail little body, and my weak little stinger. And you will drown me, yes, but for the rest of your life everyone will know that you took the life of a creature that was no danger to you for no greater sin than that you did not want to grant them passage. You will never escape the weight of me on your back, waiting to be carried to the afterlife you delivered me to.”
The frog was silent, for a while, before it continued to swim. “I think I would have preferred you with a stinger that worked.”
The scorpion relaxed its grip. “And I would have preferred to not have to use it.”
—
“Do you know how many times we’ve done this?” Asked the frog, eyes flicking back to its passenger. “I can’t remember how long it’s been.”
“A million lives.” Purred the scorpion, claws nestled up to the frog’s neck. “A million lives now, with this one. And it never matters until we’re here.”
“I’m glad it’s us.” Said the frog, letting the tide sweep it away. “I’m glad even after a million lives, we always find each other.”
The scorpion clung tight, even as the water seeped into its carapace. “I’d never die with anyone else, my love.”
Hopelessly entangled, they faded into oblivion.
—
A chicken stood at the edge of a road, watching the cars go by.
“Is this all there is?” It asked.
“I don’t know.” Said the fox across from it, brushing some grass from it’s foot.
“But it might be nice to find out.”
—
-but no sooner had the frog gotten halfway across the river did a great catfish rise up, mouth so wide they could not escape.
“Oh, foolish frog and foolish bug.” It said, voice full of pity as it swallowed them both. “Your eyes glued to the most obvious threat, did you never think there were greater things to fear in a river as deep and wide as this?”
And the catfish swam off, to find more frogs to devour.
—
“Sorry?” The scorpion paused, confused. “Sting you? Why on earth would I do that?
“Well,” said the frog. “It’s in your nature to, isn’t it?”
“No, not at all!” The scorpion said, voice tinged with insult. “We don’t run around stabbing everything we see. That’s a good way to start a fight you can’t win. A stinger is just for catching food and fending off predators, really. It’s no more my nature to sting everything as it is your nature to drown everything. And you don’t do that, do you!”
The frog scowled, petulant at the tone. “Well, the scorpion I usually see here almost always stings me…”
“That seems like you’re projecting problems with one scorpion onto every scorpion you meet.” Said the scorpion. “I’m not really sure I trust you to take me across the river, frankly. Do you know if there’s another frog who could help?”
The frog grumbled, and slipped into the water.
—
The chicken stood on the banks of the river with it’s children. A fox sat on the other bank, with a bag of corn.
“Hoy, chicken.” Shouted the fox. “Do you ever think you might be stuck in a rut?”
“What’s it to you?” The chicken said, flapping a wing in annoyance. “My life is my own business, fox.”
The fox shrugged, pawing at the corn. “I just feel like I can’t get out of this cycle,” it said with a sigh. “Like my life is stuck on rails.”
—
“On rails?” The scorpion asked. “What do you mean?”
“My whole life is just this river-”
—
“This road-”
—
“This boat-”
—
“And it feels like it doesn’t change. It feels like I’m always just here. In the river, with you.”
—
“Is it such a bad place to be?” Asked the fox.
“With me?”
—
“How long do you think the river has been here?” Asked the scorpion.
The frog thought about that until the poison had seeped into its bones.
“As long as us,” it whispered, as its lungs gave out. “As long as we’ve needed it.”
—
“You’re not swimming right.” Said the scorpion, pinching the frog’s arm.
“You need to kick round with the back legs, push with the front, like this-” gently, it pushed the frog’s limbs into the correct position.
“Oh, thank you.” Said the frog. “I’m no good at this. I’ve never been a frog before.”
“You’re doing brilliantly, my dear.” The scorpion said, trying to reassure. “I would have taught you earlier if I could have.”
“And I would have taught you to walk.” The frog laughed, kicking much stronger now. “If only I’d known you didn’t know! I saw you stumbling over the sands there.”
“I’ve never had so many legs!” The scorpion wailed. “How do you manage them all? And the eyes!”
They were not making it across the river very fast.
“I don’t mind only having two eyes.” The frog admitted. “I could get used to it.”
Despite the tutoring, the frog was getting exhausted, weak muscles failing in strong currents.
The scorpion tried to kick at the water, but its frail carapace only dredged in the currents, dragging them both down further.
“Oh, we’re no good at it this way around.” The scorpion said with a shake of its tail, claws clinging so strongly to the frog’s gossamer skin that it ripped open, spilling the entrails like ruby ribbons into the depths.
The frog laughed, choking on the water it didn’t know how to breathe. “I can’t swim, and you won’t sting! Oh, how our natures fail us still!”
And the river claimed them both once more.
—
“Do you remember a time before the riverbank?” Asked the fox.
“Do you remember anything after it?” The Chicken countered, head stuck in the bag of corn as it ate its fill. “Is there anything but the pursuit of what we will never grasp?”
“Maybe we will grasp it,” the fox’s voice was tinged with hope, tail tucked tightly around its legs. “Maybe one day, we will be more than our natures, and we will not have to cross the river again.”
“I like the thrill of it.” Said the chicken. “I’d miss the thrill of it.”
The fox sighed, and lowered its head down to the chicken, already doomed to bite. “But still, wouldn’t it be nice?”
—
But alas, the rains had been heavy, and the river bank had become swollen and wide.
The frog kicked for what felt like an eternity, the scorpion holding steady on its back.
Eventually it could swim no longer, and its legs seized up, as it gasped for air.
“I’m sorry, my love-” the frog wheezed. “I don’t think I can make it-”
“It’s okay.” The scorpion’s voice was soft with sadness, knowing now that it was doomed to die. “I didn’t know it would be so hard. I’m sorry I did this to you. I’m sorry I couldn’t help.”
“It’s not your fault,” said the frog, as the currents began to sweep them both downstream. “I wanted to help, I- I really thought I could get you there, I, we were so close -”
“We really were, weren’t we?” The scorpion’s hold on the frog was loosening, as its head swam from lack of oxygen. “We almost made it, we really did…”
The frog wailed in grief as the scorpion’s body was torn away, swallowed by the churning rapids.
—
A scorpion walked across an old riverbed. The smooth pebbles had long laid bare, the river dried up thousands of years ago.
It paused in the middle, overcome with a strange pain in its chest, and decided to turn back.
It felt wrong to cross this river alone.
—
“Where do you think the cars go?” Asked the fox.
The chicken watched a car drive by, seeing the shadowy shapes move within. “I try not to think about it. I want to be happy with my lot in life.”
—
-and no sooner had the frog gotten halfway across the river when the scorpion tapped its stinger against the frog’s back to get its attention.
“Hey,” said the scorpion. “I’m not really in that much of a rush, and it’s a beautiful day. Why don’t we just go up the river instead? I’ve always wanted to try standing on a lilypad.”
“Sure, if you’d like.” Said the frog. “I don’t have any plans for the day.
And while the river remained uncrossed, neither of them were unhappy about this.
—
“When did you know you loved me?” Asked the turtle, as the scorpion clung onto its back, hiding from the deep currents of the river.
The scorpion winced as a wave shook them. “Oh, from the start.” it said, shaking water from its tail. “Or near enough. I’d never met a frog before. And even though you didn’t know me, you laid your life on the line for me. For hope that the impossible was possible.”
The turtle considered that, thinking back across its many lives.
“I don’t think I knew I loved you until recently.” The turtle admitted, lifting its head from the water so its voice could be soft. “It took time, I think, to know. But that said, why else would I come back, time and time again to the same spot of the same river?”
“You have a world of rivers you could be in, my love.” The scorpion agreed. “And yet I always wait for you here. And you always come.”
“I’ve never been as vulnerable as I’ve been with you.” Even as the water licked up its shell, the turtle continued to swim. “I’d never trust my life to anyone else.”
“Here’s to us,” said the scorpion, raising its stinger. “And the river.”
“Here’s to us.” Said the turtle, raising a flipper to sting. “I hope we always find each other.”
—
“Well here we are,” said the frog to the scorpion. “The other side.”
“Here we are.” The scorpion agreed, slowly climbing off its back. “Thank you, for all of this.”
“Thank you for choosing me.” Said the frog. “Thank you for chaining my lives together. For helping me remember the infinity of Us.”
The scorpion didn’t answer, simply looking up, letting the sun warm its carapace.
“I’ve never really left the river.” The frog took another step onto the bank. “It’s… nice.”
The scorpion turned. For a moment, the frog felt the surge of adrenaline as it felt a pinch on its skin, only to find the scorpion had clasped its claw around their hand. “Come with me.” It pleaded, voice soft with urgency. “Come with me, and don’t say no. I won’t leave this river without you. We can see the other side together.”
Those claws could slice, but they were only firm. The river was only the river. But from the banks the frog could see a jungle of lush green, vibrant with life beyond its knowledge. It laughed. “I’ve always wondered what it was like out there.”
—
And the river was silent, with no moral questions to burden it.
That’s because i only added this bit this morning. I think its pretty good
I think it’s beautiful. thank you for making this
[image: a tag: “this is one of my favorite posts of all time but I’ve never seen this version of it”]
Official Time Loop Post
“Robot Story” del artista: Vaskange.
“Endless Robot Feelings” melodía: Por Adrien Melano.
Artist: RaeGunBlast
now its time to bring the haterism
if you think multiple are bad vote for the one you hate the most <3
i feel so seen!!
— Frank Bidart, from “Half-light: Collected Poems 1965-2016; ‘The Third Hour of the Night’", published c. 2017.
