Interpretation - Tumblr Posts - Page 2

𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐀 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄 - 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 [𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖]

This is a preview of my Creepypasta fanfiction 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐀 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄 on Quotev! If this piques your interest, you can check out the full story here. :)

Y/N was a sharp and resolute woman. She stood tall in her field of work. Ever since she was a little girl, she'd wanted to be a police officer. She always wondered what went on into criminals minds and what drove them to commit such violent crimes. Blood, death, and violence were her key interests as a child. It often scared others away from her, but it never tore her down. And as she grew, she found herself in the exact position she'd dreamt of.

Her new house stood as a symbol of fresh beginnings, a sanctuary she had recently moved into. Weeks had passed since she settled into the quiet neighborhood. She was quite happy with it. Everything was as normal and plain as plain can be. That was up until oddities began appearing. Strange sightings began to be whispered about. Then, disappearances, followed by brutal murders that shook everyone to their core.

The atmosphere became charged with tension, both among the residents and the law enforcement tasked with solving the heinous crimes. Y/N was taken by surprise just as much as everyone else had been. The chief was on her tail, as he was on everyone else's to figure out who was doing all of this. She could feel the weight of responsibility pressing down on her shoulders, the burden of unraveling the mysteries that unfolded before them. Throughout her career, she had faced a myriad of criminals, from petty thieves to rapists and rebellious teenagers. However, the presence of a murderer, especially a serial killer, was a rarity that sent chills down her spine.

Y/N found herself on edge, just like the rest of the community. She yearned to understand what was going on. Over time, more victims were discovered, each murder somehow, some way more violent than the last. One woman; Amybeth Merritt, a 37-year-old. She was discovered in her own bedroom, half naked and suspended on the wall with her hands nailed to the surface, her own intestines twisted around her neck like a noose. Her stomach appeared to be sliced open, her body adorned with countless lacerations. Her death was no doubt agonizing, not to mention untimely as her family continues to mourn.

And another, poor 22 year old Makayla Addams, found naked on her bed with nothing but a silk crimson blanket covering her body. It had been bitten into in various places; her neck, her hip, her thigh--even her most delicate areas. It's believed she had participated in consensual sexual activity prior to her death.

There have been no leads, nor any suspects. Whoever is doing this is clever and they likely won't be stopping any time soon.

Y/N found solace within the walls of her home office. Bathed in the soft glow of lamplight, the room emanated an air of security. The hushed whispers of the wind danced through the trees outside, a soothing melody that complemented the rhythmic scribbling of her pen on paper.

The office, her sanctuary, embraced her with its warmth and familiarity. The shelves, adorned with a vast collection of books, whispered tales of knowledge and wisdom. The dark oakwood desk, worn with time, bore witness to countless hours of dedication and determination. Its expansive surface was adorned with stacks of paperwork, neatly organized into boxes at the corners of the room, alongside other important items. As Y/N delved into the sea of documents, her focus unwavering, a sense of purpose filled the room. Each stroke of her pen carried weight, each decision made with meticulous care. The night seemed to envelop her, embracing the solitude and serenity that only the late hours could offer.

Outside her window, the moon cast a gentle glow, casting long shadows that danced across the floor. The wind rustled the leaves, a gentle reminder of the world beyond her office walls. In this stillness, Y/N's mind was clear, her thoughts sharp, as she navigated the complexities of her work.

Amidst the calmness of the night, Y/N's dedication burned bright. The night sky bore witness to her unwavering commitment to the pursuit of justice. And as she continued to toil into the early hours, the quietude of the night became a testament to her unwavering resolve. Despite all that had been unfolding outside, she felt safe and happy.

Suddenly, Y/N's head snapped forward at the abrupt sound of the doorbell. The pen she held in her hand found its place on the desk, carefully set down as she rose from her chair. With a swift motion, she pushed the chair back, causing it to spin momentarily before colliding with the edge of the desk. Curiosity tinged with a hint of caution danced in her eyes as she exited her office, her steps starting off awfully slow as she felt this feeling of foreboding wash over her for no real reason. One step after the other, she hurried over to the door. Each footfall echoed through the hallway, the silence broken by the soft shuffle of her shoes on the floor. Questions swirled in her mind, wondering who could be at her doorstep at such a late hour.

The hallway led her closer to the front door, anticipation building with each passing moment. She couldn't help but wonder about the possibilities that awaited her on the other side.

As Y/N reached the entrance, her hand reached out for the doorknob. She hesitated for a brief moment, her mind contemplating the potential risks of opening that door. She couldn't figure out why, but something was urging her to back away and stay inside. Alas, she didn't listen.

With a steady breath, Y/N turned the doorknob and swung open the door, the night air seeping into the threshold. Her eyes scanned the darkness, eventually moving down to the concrete step below her feet. There she was greeted with a large package. A plain light-brown box adorned with tape at the creases.

Her curiosity piqued, her warm eyes fixated on the unassuming box. Simple and worn, it held an untold secret within. With a mix of caution and anticipation, she picked it up, feeling its weight—light yet heavy with an unknown power.

Bringing the box inside her cozy home, a dimly lit foyer and a light presence welcomed her. Time seemed suspended, caught between suspense and the hunger for answers. Y/N placed the box on an aged wooden table, its surface bearing stories of the past. Quickly, she ventures off into the kitchen, fetching a pair of cooking scissors. She rushed back, pulling the box closer to her. With a calculated force, she drove the scissors into the top of the box, puncturing the tape and creating a starting point. Sensing the resistance give way, she swiftly withdrew her hand, allowing the tape to peel back and form a neat, precise slit. She drops the tool and uses her hands to tear the two cardboard folds apart, revealing a collection of mysterious jewel cases inside.

The detective couldn't help but furrow her brows, her gaze unable to pull away from the handful of DVDs. Beginning to wonder if she had opened someone else's package, she starts to feel almost regretful. There was no return address, or even a name on the box. But yet, she still felt as if something was terribly wrong.

Reluctantly, she reaches inside, wrapping her fingers around one of the clear cases. She squeezed it, pulling it back from the box. As the light reflected off of the surface, large words in what appeared to be black marker read; TAPE 1.

Y/N's curiosity compelled her to set the box aside momentarily and return to her office. With a purposeful stride, she crossed the threshold and made her way back to her desk. The familiar creak of the chair greeted her as she settled back down, pulling herself closer to the expansive dark oakwood desk. The jewel case rests in her hand, its contents beckoning with an air of mystery.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N's shaky hand tightened on the jewel case, her fingertips tracing the smooth surface. With a deft motion, she released the clasp and lifted the lid, revealing the gleaming CD nestled inside. Its mirrored surface caught the dim light of her office, adding an ethereal glimmer to the room.

Her eyes flicked to the small side button on the CD player built into her computer. Without hesitation, she pressed the button, hearing a satisfying click as the tray slid open. Gently, she placed the CD onto the tray, the metallic surface fitting perfectly within the grooves. With a soft push, the tray glided back into place, securing the CD within the confines of the computer.

As the CD player whirred to life, anticipation coursed through Y/N's veins. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

The video player on her computer screen flickered to life, a small loading icon spinning in the center. Her heart raced with as she leaned forward, tapping her finger nervously on the desk all while she rested her free hand at the bottom of her jaw. The tension hung in the air, as palpable as the tension that gripped her.

Time seemed to stretch as the loading process dragged on, the progress bar advancing sluggishly. Y/N's impatience grew, her finger tapping faster on the desk. The video player appeared to stutter, almost glitching at times, adding to her mounting frustration.

Unable to bear the slow progress any longer, Y/N pushed herself up from her chair and made her way to the kitchen. She needed a momentary distraction to ease her restlessness. Quietly, she filled the kettle with water and set it on the stove. As the water over time came to a boil, Y/N prepared a cup of tea, carefully selecting her favorite blend. The fragrant steam wafted upwards, enveloping her senses. With the cup cradled in her hands, she took a moment to collect herself, savoring the warmth and aroma.

Even as she sipped her tea, Y/N's mind remained fixated on the video waiting to be watched. The lure of the unknown beckoned her back to her office, hoping that it must be loaded up on the screen by now.

Balancing the cup of tea in her hands, Y/N made her way back to her office, the warm ceramic radiating comfort against her palms. She carefully sat down in her chair, setting the cup on a coaster beside her. Heaving a sigh of hope, she directed her attention back to the computer screen.

To her relief, the video loaded, a peculiar thumbnail appeared, its image distorted and unclear. Excitement washed over her, before replacing itself with a sense of confusion. Y/N squinted, trying to make out the details, but it seemed intentionally messy, like a sepia-filtered photograph with streaks of red liquid cascading along the bottom. The sight puzzled her, the abstract pattern and intensity of saturation leaving her with more questions than answers.

Curiosity mingled with a touch of unease as she questioned the nature of the video she was about to watch. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was making a serious mistake. She began having second thoughts as she rested her hand over the mouse, biting her lip. Perhaps she should put the CD back in the box? Bring it to her team? So many ideas, so many queer thoughts. The image teased at her senses, its cryptic appearance fueling her further.

Unable to take the mental torture any longer, she gives in.

"Ah, what the hell—"

Honestly, the faces just really sell it. Abyss looks like he’s trying to hit on Pizza Guy here (I couldn’t find his name) and the poor dude’s not sure how to respond.

A:”Sooooo...you like ukiyo-e?”

PG:”Uki-whaty?”

A:”You know, those old, woodblock prints from the east?”

PG:”Uhhhh...yeah? They’re really neat.”

A:”You got any favorites?”

PG:”Not really. You?

A:”The Dream of the Fisherman's Wife. You know, the one with the woman and the octopus?”

PG:”Ohh...yeah, that one. it’s pretty famous, isn’t it?”

A:”It is. Though personally, I prefer the rule 63 version.”

PG:”I...don’t think there is a rule 63 version.”

A:”Really?”

(Abyss smirks.)

A:”Wanna make one?”

PG:” 0//_//0 Oh dear...”

A:”Fuhuhuhuhuhuhu....”

Good luck Pizza Guy, you’re gonna need it.

Art of my OC with Egg Boss Abyss the Squid. ^~^

COMM - RobotnikHolmes by AwesomeBlossomPossum

I have to admit that it's so frustrating to me that people are doing this "He's canon ace but not canon aro" thing. It feels like people wanting to have it both ways at the cost aro people. If you're going to say only what's explicit in the text matters, then be honest with proper embrace of Death of the Author and disregard what Brennan said outside the context of the text. If you want to invest meaning in authorial intent, than be honest about the authorial intent with Riz. It's hard enough being aro in fandom as it is without people playing both sides of the fence on this

I'm sorry that there is a lack of aromantic representation, but you can't decide what the authorial intent was for the author. He could be aro! There's a lot of subtext and ways to read the story like that, but it's just as easy to read it as him being demiromantic or gray romantic or even just a late bloomer. Because of this, I can't confirm the authors intent unless he states it. I don't personally have an opinion on it, I just like Riz, and I'll like his character no matter what his sexuality is. I'm not going to disregard a statement from a cast member, especially when I doubt Brennan would have said without Murph's permission. That, to me at least, is confirmation of authorial intent.

I can understand why you're frustrated, but there aren't (or at least shouldn't be) sides. I'm simply saying that Riz is not canonically Aromantic, which is true. However, this does not mean that Aromantic people are somehow wrong in saying that they believe he is! Just like many other things, it is up for the viewer to decide currently.

If Murph comes out and says Riz is Aromantic, that's it. He's Aromantic. But until then, it's up for interpretation. You aren't wrong for saying he's Aromantic, but neither is someone saying he's not Aromantic.

I am so glad that Riz resonates with you, but others don't have your same experience and might relate to him in different ways, and their experience and interpretations aren't less valid than yours.

The world isn't black and white. There are so many nuisances that can be beautiful if you allow yourself to see them.

I'm not on the fence. I know exactly where I stand. Riz is canonically asexual and he has no confirmed romantic interests, although he has been shown to be less interested than his peers. This could mean many, many different things, but saying that thinking Riz is asexual but not aromantic is being on the fence is discounting real people who are asexual and not aromantic.

It's not all or nothing. I'm not out to get you or hurt anyone. It just frustrates me when people state their interpretations of media as facts and get upset when other people have different interpretations. Your interpretation isn't more valid just because it's more diverse. That would be like me reading a book where someone was never stated to have a race, but I decided that their character would make more sense if they were black, so now they're canonically black, even though I don't know what the author imagined them like. Just because it's adding diversity doesn't make it more morally correct. It doesn't make it more incorrect either. It just makes it your interpretation.

I know you're probably sick of hearing this, but it's up for interpretation, and you can't fault people for having a different interpretation of a character.

I’m the broken Pringle on the bottom of the tube

P E R F E C T I O N 🌟 (Question - if Ink loses all his emotions, will he really die? Didn't he lose them in between the color splashes in @comyet's comic? And can't he just make new vials to hold the emotions? And couldn't he just go to the place he usually visits to refill his bottles? Questions over questions yet to discover...)

Here’s some sads!

You didn’t ask for it, but I’m giving it to you! Alright? Buckle up!

In a recent comic by @comyet about the origins of the fantastic character Ink, it’s shown he can’t actual feel emotions, due to not having a SOUL. He can artificially stimulate emotions using colors from a yet unknown source. Or maybe the source is known, and I just don’t get it. I know it has to do with the creator or somethings? I don’t know. ANYWAYS! Everytime he runs out of the colors, his emotions fade. And when his emotions fade, so does his personality.

At first, I thought he was kind of like Fresh, since Fresh can’t feel emotions either. But I realized Fresh has a personality, even if it’s born purely out of survival in order to ‘fit in’. (We all know how well he does. If not, then check him out, he belongs to @loverofpiggies.)

In order to keep his personality from fading, he bottled them up. The colors, that is. So all he has to do is take some and voilà, he has emotions, and a personality. Now here’s where the sads I warned you about kick in.

Let’s say, Ink can’t get access to a fresh supply of his emotion colors. So all he has are his bottles. His bottles last him a while, since all he needs to take are a little bit and he’s set for awhile. But, let’s say he got into a fight. With Error (who also belongs to @loverofpiggies) or somebody. And his sash holding the bottles get cut, so in panic, Ink grabs it in order to not lose it. Error notices how important the sash with the bottles are to Ink, so he uses his strings to take it. And he disappears off into the anti-void or wherever he goes, taking the sash with him. Error doesn’t realize the importance of the bottles, only that they were important to Ink. He thinks it’s like Ink’s brush. It won’t kill Ink, but it will certainly drag on him. Error thinks it’s a relatively harmless prank.

Now Ink, he’s frantic when Error disappears with his bottles. But, he calms down, thinking Error will have to show up at some point to destroy an AU. And when he does, Ink will show up like always and then be able to get his bottles back. Except, Error doesn’t show up again. He’s taken a break of sorts. No activity on his end. And usually, Ink would be happy about that, since it would mean Error’s not destroying AUs. But Ink needs Error to make an appearance. He needs his bottles back. But, still no Error.

Slowly, Ink notices his emotions fading. It’s not obvious at first, but the colors of his outfit gives it away. The colors are more drab than usual. Ink finds it harder and harder to conjure up an emotion. He no longer pukes up ink, simply because he can no longer get that excited. Even his eyes don’t change as much. It’s like he’s fading away. Ink isolates himself, trying to make his emotions last as long as possible. Because once that’s gone… for all intents and purposes… he’ll be dead.

Eventually, someone finds him. Be it Dream, or Sans, or whatever being can access where he is. Maybe even Error. His friends would be devastated, seeing Ink like that. He no longer has any colors. And he shows no emotions at seeing them, not even sadness. He recognizes them, but it’s like he doesn’t care. If Error found him, he probably wouldn’t completely understand what’s going on. He would mock Ink, boast over him. But when Ink doesn’t even show any emotion towards him, or any hints of his usually boisterous personality, Error would get mad. He would scream, yell at Ink to do something. Because anything is better than nothing. But Ink doesn’t do anything.

Maybe, possibly, in anger, Error would brandish Ink’s sash. Maybe he was already wearing it as a trophy. And Ink shows the first signs of life in looong while. Error quickly realizes what Ink wants, and tosses it to him, hoping that does something. And Ink takes the bottles, and takes a drink from all of them. Maybe all at once. And it’s like a freaking rainbow. All the colors coming bursting back. Ink probably pukes ink, his emotions overwhelming him.

Ink thanks Error, probably in his annoying little shit way (I love him), purposely antagonizing Error. But… it’s also sincere. And Error acts all flustered and tsundere probably, but is secretly glad Ink is back. But he probably just flops Ink off and goes back to the anti-void.

Huh, interesting takes! (And thanks for answering my questions! :”D )

So you mean that “dying” doesn’t refer to actually dying here but rather loosing all he has? ....Sounds legit! After all, he HAS been ‘living’ without emotions first, so it would be weird if he actually died later. He probably just refers to it as ‘dying’ (and if some people knew that, they’d freak out every time he looses some color saturation XD ).

Oh, and I realized that having no access to the emotion source was a requirement for the following set of events, silly me. :”D

He can refill them on general terms (because otherwise he’d be screwed with having only a certain amount of time left to ‘live’) - but he can’t for unknown reasons get new supplies in the setting.

And no problem, I was having much fun reading it. ^^

Here’s some sads!

You didn’t ask for it, but I’m giving it to you! Alright? Buckle up!

In a recent comic by @comyet about the origins of the fantastic character Ink, it’s shown he can’t actual feel emotions, due to not having a SOUL. He can artificially stimulate emotions using colors from a yet unknown source. Or maybe the source is known, and I just don’t get it. I know it has to do with the creator or somethings? I don’t know. ANYWAYS! Everytime he runs out of the colors, his emotions fade. And when his emotions fade, so does his personality.

At first, I thought he was kind of like Fresh, since Fresh can’t feel emotions either. But I realized Fresh has a personality, even if it’s born purely out of survival in order to ‘fit in’. (We all know how well he does. If not, then check him out, he belongs to @loverofpiggies.)

In order to keep his personality from fading, he bottled them up. The colors, that is. So all he has to do is take some and voilà, he has emotions, and a personality. Now here’s where the sads I warned you about kick in.

Let’s say, Ink can’t get access to a fresh supply of his emotion colors. So all he has are his bottles. His bottles last him a while, since all he needs to take are a little bit and he’s set for awhile. But, let’s say he got into a fight. With Error (who also belongs to @loverofpiggies) or somebody. And his sash holding the bottles get cut, so in panic, Ink grabs it in order to not lose it. Error notices how important the sash with the bottles are to Ink, so he uses his strings to take it. And he disappears off into the anti-void or wherever he goes, taking the sash with him. Error doesn’t realize the importance of the bottles, only that they were important to Ink. He thinks it’s like Ink’s brush. It won’t kill Ink, but it will certainly drag on him. Error thinks it’s a relatively harmless prank.

Now Ink, he’s frantic when Error disappears with his bottles. But, he calms down, thinking Error will have to show up at some point to destroy an AU. And when he does, Ink will show up like always and then be able to get his bottles back. Except, Error doesn’t show up again. He’s taken a break of sorts. No activity on his end. And usually, Ink would be happy about that, since it would mean Error’s not destroying AUs. But Ink needs Error to make an appearance. He needs his bottles back. But, still no Error.

Slowly, Ink notices his emotions fading. It’s not obvious at first, but the colors of his outfit gives it away. The colors are more drab than usual. Ink finds it harder and harder to conjure up an emotion. He no longer pukes up ink, simply because he can no longer get that excited. Even his eyes don’t change as much. It’s like he’s fading away. Ink isolates himself, trying to make his emotions last as long as possible. Because once that’s gone… for all intents and purposes… he’ll be dead.

Eventually, someone finds him. Be it Dream, or Sans, or whatever being can access where he is. Maybe even Error. His friends would be devastated, seeing Ink like that. He no longer has any colors. And he shows no emotions at seeing them, not even sadness. He recognizes them, but it’s like he doesn’t care. If Error found him, he probably wouldn’t completely understand what’s going on. He would mock Ink, boast over him. But when Ink doesn’t even show any emotion towards him, or any hints of his usually boisterous personality, Error would get mad. He would scream, yell at Ink to do something. Because anything is better than nothing. But Ink doesn’t do anything.

Maybe, possibly, in anger, Error would brandish Ink’s sash. Maybe he was already wearing it as a trophy. And Ink shows the first signs of life in looong while. Error quickly realizes what Ink wants, and tosses it to him, hoping that does something. And Ink takes the bottles, and takes a drink from all of them. Maybe all at once. And it’s like a freaking rainbow. All the colors coming bursting back. Ink probably pukes ink, his emotions overwhelming him.

Ink thanks Error, probably in his annoying little shit way (I love him), purposely antagonizing Error. But… it’s also sincere. And Error acts all flustered and tsundere probably, but is secretly glad Ink is back. But he probably just flops Ink off and goes back to the anti-void.

EVERYONE READ THIS!!!

If you ever wondered why Ink/Error/Template and (not) Pale fear things, here's a very good interpretation to that!!!

I'm unaware if this has been asked before but i was thinking back to when we all found out who had the fear of physical contact((still love that lmao)) and i started wondering if pale had the fear of white emptiness, or is he just unable to notice the fear without his emotions?

(Please note that some of this might be based on my personal headcanons. I can not verify that any statement about Error or Ink I make is correct. ALSO LONG POST HERE WE GO!)

I’m gonna start with an observation: Character’s fears are an expansion of their personality and experiences they’ve made.

So in order to answer this, you would need to ask yourself why they even have those fears. And in order to answer that for Template and Pale, you should look at Ink and Error first.

Why is Error afraid of physical contact in the first place? While there is no canon explanation, I think it’s kind of understandable considering his situation. If you sat in a white void for god knows how long slowly going insane, without anyone to keep you company, you would probably be afraid of other people being too close, too. He’s used to this loneliness, not to mention that he’s unstable. Lastly, he’s super bad at dealing with other characters’ emotions. So my headcanon is that his phobia is an expansion of exactly the circumstances he had to live with.

So why is Template afraid of this, too? He’s a lot more sociable and nice, right? Why should he afraid of the same thing? Well, simply because he’s been through the same experiences. He also has been alone for so long that it’s still so weird for him to touch people. However, he is aware of his own fear and he decided to fight it. That is why it is NOT impossible to touch him. You can shake his hand (however his handshake is kinda hesitant OR disproportionately strong), give him a high five or fist bumps all you want (note he’s wearing gloves *wink wink*) and you can even hug him! However, you shouldn’t overwhelm him or he flinches back. Give him some time to mentally prepare, let him come to you and DO NOT SQUEEZE HIM! Let him work in his own pace and it’s gonna be okay to hug him. c:

And now, let’s continue with Ink.

Ink’s fear is not just the ‘white’ emptiness. Ink’s fear is the absence of things in general. While that doesn’t seem to make so much of a difference at first glance, it definitely is worth noting. I’ve seen people making the mistake of thinking that Ink is ONLY afraid of the anti void or similar stuff like that or that he’s afraid of the color white and while the anti void of course is THE WORST place you could ever bring him to, it’s not limited to that. I imagine that Ink would be afraid of standing in a wide field of some sort or stare into space. I also think that Ink could also get afraid of silence, like when in a conversation and the other one would suddenly stop responding to him completely. This kind of awkward silence everyone should be familiar with. (Maybe that’s the reason why he seems kinda chatty.) 

Why is Ink afraid of emptiness? Well, there might be several reasons. For one, it reminds him of his own emptiness, i.e. the lack of a soul. It also might be his constant drive to feel needed. He wants to help people to create and be imaginative, so the lack thereof is giving him the chills. Ink found his purpose in life in helping to create and without this, his existence is meaningless. It might be ultimately the fear of death that is connected to exactly that lack of creativity or absence or everything that makes him afraid. 

Lastly, let’s talk about Pale. Does he have the fear of emptiness, too? Pale is most of the time in the exact state that Ink is afraid of. The ironic thing is that fear is an emotion, and therefore Pale is not afraid of that state when he’s experiencing it. When Pale is in the rare situation that allows him to actually experience fear, he’s absolutely afraid of going back to his emotionless state, yes. (Then again, he’d be scared of almost everything in that moment.) But since his emotions fade away again, he’s not able to be afraid when it’s actually happening. So this fear is more surreal to him than it is to Ink. What Pale does have is this drive that makes him drain AUs in the first place. Pale knows that he is missing something, and he tries to gain that by gaining emotions. It’s not a fear, but maybe a desire(?) to be able to feel. Ink supports AUs, but Pale destroys them by draining them off their creativity. Pale literally creates emptiness in order to feel, which is the exact opposite of what Ink does, giving him a different ‘purpose’ in life.

So in conclusion: No, Pale is not afraid of emptiness because he’s not able to feel most of the time. He didn’t find the same purpose in life that Ink did since his way of obtaining emotions is entirely different. So there is not much reason for him to be afraid of that. c:

Love this clip, the interviews of elder Deleuze are really when he's at his height, everyone knows Anti Oedipus of course but What is Philosophy is just one of those books that work sooooo well.

Anyway posting for a few reasons,

1. His French is just beautiful here, he pronounces the words with such vigour.

2. He presents an amazing paradigm to interpret texts, starting at the horizon and then pulling in. For example, if you look at books like Moby Dick or the Inferno both present a fuckton of events, characters, chapters etc. and if you just start by trying to figure out the symbolism of one passage you'll be missing the forest for the trees (Those books are encyclopedic its so cool! fucking my favourite types of books:P).

The Logic, Horizon, Structure, mode of perception (and remember your own mode here too!) and most importantly what the text is creating (like what the author is writing/making when she writes the book.) all are needed first. Once the logic is elaborated It will become like the light source in a painting and will progress from the horizon and illuminate all the progressing ground before it until a single work of art is shown.

3. His cardigan is a really nice colour, I really want it.

Pretentious Post over