Origami Books/diagrams Are Wild, If They Do Have Written Instructions They Include Lots Of Beautiful

There are too many smart immortals. I want more stories about immortal himbos.

reblog if you need a hug

february by Alex Dimitrov

how i became impossible by Mary Ruefle

Yes, this is a weird layout! I wish I could see more of this house to give the basement staircase more context. It’s similar to the basement entrance in my (formerly) grandmother’s gorgeous house. For reference her house was in Taylorsville, Utah. I would guess it was built in the mid 1960’s. Very open plan concept. Home entrance at street level. Walk up 4 stone stairs to the main house. To the right is the sunken main living room if you walk down 2 steps. Enjoy the windows or the stone fireplace, and there is a half-wall behind the sofa, gorgeous, very open. At the home entrance to your left is the dining room. Big sliding glass door at the back leads to the fully landscaped backyard. Incorporated seamlessly as a divider between the living and dining rooms is the basement staircase (basically straight across from the house entrance).

Very demure.

This one makes me wonder if this originally had a sunken living room and the “sunken” was remodeled away. The result would be a very out of place staircase.

Our Daughters’ first solar/annular eclipse. Wonderful to see these photos from Bryce Canyon!

Today’s “Ring of Fire” eclipse. from, Bryce Canyon National Park.

Credits: NPS Photo/Peter Densmore.

This is why Tumblr is my happy place

Can someone please explain to me what evaporated milk is? Wouldn’t that just be gas by definition? I live in constant fear

Used to love exploring cruise ships...miss this

I really enjoy just existing in hotels. The long identical hallways. The soulless abstract art. The weird noises the air-conditioner makes. Strange city lights in the window. Six stories off the ground. Strangers chatting in the hall. Nothing in the dresser. No past, but an infinite present. 

I live for stories like this of knowable Gods.

You meet god and she's mostly dead fish. You ask her why and she says most of the world is dead fish, and she's made herself to appeal to the most common denominator, the everyman funnyman comedy show that runs for eleven seasons but with the entire universe in mind. You ask her how much of the dead fish is your fault, she says it's far less than you'd think, in the grand scheme of things. You ask her if you matter at all. If you can do anything. She shrugs her rotting shoulders and says mattering is a made-up concept, like life, but sure, you can matter if you want to, on some scale. She has many scales. She doesn't know what you mean by 'anything', but you can do everything you can. You ask her if it's enough. She says there's no base requirement for deserving to exist. She's smoking a joint and the smoke filtering out of her gills gathers and forms gas giants and red dwarfs. You ask her if there's any hidden secrets of the universe you should know and she says it's not a secret if she tells, plus it's fun to let you figure it out yourself. You ask her if any of your questions were right questions and she says you worry about being right so much it might keep you from fucking around, which is as close to meaning of life as she ever bothered to make. You don't ask but she says she loves your hair, also your whole being, also your planet. She says she figured out what love is yesterday and is trying it out, which explains the ten thousand rainbows and sudden influx in rains of fish. She offers you a drag of her joint and you wake up half past midnight behind a chain restaurant clutching a smoked salmon. The new stars are winking like they're in on some joke and you're sure if you try hard enough you'll remember what it is.

Some women are, “built like linebackers, the people so tall they develop back issues hunching over from trying not to be the biggest person in the room, the people who can’t even find well-fitting clothing at big and tall stores, the people who “thigh-highs” barely go above the knee, the people with broad shoulders and high hairlines that bangs can’t hide. And yes a lot of these features aren’t seen as feminine or cute or beautiful.”

All these women are beautiful. I hope we can all find love and peace in our bodies.

Turns out that in real life it’s not just the tiny skinny ones who end up actually being trans women. Sometimes it’s the people who are built like linebackers, the people so tall they develop back issues hunching over from trying not to be the biggest person in the room, the people who can’t even find well-fitting clothing at big and tall stores, the people who “thigh-highs” barely go above the knee, the people with broad shoulders and high hairlines that bangs can’t hide. And yes a lot of these features aren’t seen as feminine or cute or beautiful. I’m sorry that I resemble stereotypical transphobic caricatures a bit too closely, and I’m sorry that acknowledging the existence of people that look like me might make getting trans acceptance from cis people a lot harder. But frankly I’m one of the lucky ones who realized things before I started balding, one of the lucky ones who has many years of youth spent taking hormones in my future to somewhat alleviate the problems that make me hate my own body. And I don’t think any of these issues makes me or anyone else less of a woman, and if no one else wants to even try to depict people like us in a flattering manner then I’ll do my damnedest to do it myself