|Most successful deviation.|
#StockTalk's First Request Session!Come join #StockTalk for our first#StockTalk's First Request Session! by StockTalk
Hmm? What exactly is this "request session?"
Request sessions will act as a form of inspiration for stock artists and manipulators of all sorts. We will have a "panel" of stockers who would like to participate in the session, as well as you all requesting images from them. After you explain specifically what you would like to see from the stock artists, they will give you a "yes", "no", or "maybe". The panel of stockers is welcome to ask you questions or even give out special packages to manipulators of their choice.
How can I be a part of this request session?
Everyone can be a part of this! Whether you're a manipulator (photomanips, painting, vectoring, digital painting, drawing, etc.) or a stocker! This is your invitation to come join us for our first request session! We hope you can make it!
When is this request sess
I’ve never liked kids.
They make me weary.
They make me wonder where we keep our beasts.
I wonder what it is they dream.
I wonder what they think it’s like to die.
All my characters are a little queer.
Everyone knows how to be queer.
Everyone puts on a show, especially the kids.
It’ll be that way until we die.
Hell, you know oddity doesn’t end for the weary.
I want to draw the way we dream.
There are spaces in our minds that only know of beasts.
(You know they really love the queers.)
We tend to lurch into the nightmares they make of our dreams.
No one ever stops being a kid.
Imagine a boy who never stopped being weary.
He’ll take the aches to his death.
He’s spent his whole life preparing to die.
“This way,” he says, “all I do is dance with beasts.”
Wild rumpus keeps the body weary.
I never told my parents I was queer.
I’d known since I was a kid.
Boys kept finding their way into my dreams.
Never had such sweet dreams.
I often think about what we’ll miss the most when we die.
I’ve raised a lot of kids.
We’re all in love with the same beasts.
Family knows little blood for the queers.
We only share in each other’s bony weariness.
I am the boy who is always weary.
In the end, what stops us from writing down our dreams?
What do we pass on to the young queers?
What should we leave behind when we die?
And how about those terrible beasts?
Will they look like our kids?
Tonight, the kids will sleep when they are weary.
They will wrestle ravenous beasts out of their dreams.
They will know that everything dies a little bit queer.
|A sestina inspired by a chat with Alexis Pauline, author of blackfeminismlives.tumblr.com|