So this happened to me a few days ago, and I thought maybe sharing my experience could help someone if this happens to them in the future.
I was checking my Tumblr when suddenly I was logged out from it and given the usual Log In page. When I entered the details to access my blog, this appeared:
My heart skipped a bit. I tried to re-enter the details (maybe I got them wrong the first time), but no, the same message about Termination was shown. I typed my blog URL and got the
ominous
:
Same thing with my sideblogs.
So obviously I was very worried. I contacted the Tumblr support but didn’t get an answer for 48 hours, only an automated reply. I already started mentally saying goodbye to my blogs, my posts and all my followers, when finally I recieved their answer:
(In case you can’t see the picture, it says:
Hello, We’ve restored your account. Thank you for bringing this problem to our attention. We’re sorry that it occurred, and we’ll do our best to make sure that it doesn’t happen again. You should now be able to log in just fine with your email address and password. Please let me know if there’s anything else I can help you with.
My blog was restored and working normally. All my sideblogs were intact , and so were my posts and my followers. The only thing that was lost, is all the conversations by Messages. The people with whom you talked are still there, but all the history of the conversation is gone.
Alright so here is what you should do if this happens to you. Don’t panick like I did Click on the “contact support” link provided in the terminated window. Alternatively, go on Tumblr.com/support.
Politely explain your situation – give your blog URL, your mail, tell what happened exactly. I understand that the situation can be upsetting, but the person who will read the message and try to help you isn’t directly responsible for the termination of your blog. And sending an angry message with insults isn’t the best way to get your blog back either.
Wait for the reply of the team. If you feel like it takes too much time (more than few days for example), try to fill the Help/Support form again.
Once the team is in contact with you, keep the polite tone. Normally if your blog didn’t go againt the Tumblr rules and policies, you should getit back like I did.
It’s so rare to see a film that lets itself be quiet.
To see a film that realizes that the story of a week is sometimes not an arc: it’s a circle, or maybe a line, or maybe both at once.
The softness of Paterson is not begging for a secret layer. It has all meaning and none at all–in other words, it is life.
The bravery of Paterson is that it offers a prism of kindness, of patience, of the virtues of simply being. It’s got the kind of beautiful imagery that most films would want to twist.
Paterson only twists it once: it twists the central, flimsy notebook into fragmented pieces (and if that doesn’t twist your heart, I don’t know what will), and then it picks up its feet and moves on.
In other words, it’s a story about forgiveness, before there is anything to forgive.
It’s a story about love, when love means the sanctity of a few moments protected by the gray expanse of duty all through the rest of the day.
And it’s a story about a hero.
Now some might say, full stop–where’s the hero? Paterson is sweet, obviously. Forbearing. But he has not grand arc, no lofty goal.
And yet that’s exactly where his heroism lies.
The incredible comfort of seeing a man as played by Adam Driver, six-feet-plus of imposing bulk, fully capable of intimidation–
–being kind.
He never raises his voice. Hell, I’d have lost it at the damn bulldog any number of times. He keeps it to a few pithy glares and a quiet, I don’t like you, Marvin. He suffers, but not like anyone else in his world (or often our world) suffers. He mutely accepts what is on the path he has chosen.
Even when he loses himself for a moment, I don’t think he has regrets.
A hero, not given to heroics.
He’s not ambitious. He doesn’t even want to xerox his poems. He’ll keep driving the same bus, keep listening to the same lyrics of humanity, keep writing poetry that only his wife gets to hear.
He’s not ambitious. He doesn’t care about brilliance or prestige or style.
real power is going outside knowing you look ugly and also knowing that if you chose to perform femininity in accordance with patriarchal standards you could look attractive, but genuinely prefering to look ugly and not feeling bad about it. feels good feels organic
ladywriter94 