Jonathan Harker Is Just Like Me Fr He Notices The Driver Going About In Circles And Is Too Nice To Say

Can you please reblog if your blog is a safe place for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, asexual, aromantic, pansexual, non binary, demisexual or any other kind of queer or questioning people? Because mine is.

playing computer games

this is me :)

Bottlecap Press

My Dad Used To Eat Hummingbird Hearts, by Elodie Hollant

Poetry, chapbook, 28 pages, from Bottlecap Features. My Dad Used To Eat Hummingbird Hearts is an eclectic stream-of-consciousness. As Elodie

From Elodie Hollant's chapbook, My Dad Used To Eat Hummingbird Hearts, available from Bottlecap Press!

this is one of my fave nosferatu stills 🦇

why are so many great writers leaving? It makes me sad that so many are leaving and that we cant read their content anymore or even say goodbye :(

tumblr used to be a safe place for so many of us, but recently, with the waves of unnecessary hate and bullying, many writers are discouraged to continue writing and don't feel that spark of happiness they used to feel while logging in.

if you're a content consumer, please support your favorite writers as much as you can; leave comments, reblog with tags or a little something like your favorite quote, leave an ask telling them how good their work was and you're endlessly thankful for the time they put in this... too many writers feel like their efforts go to waste because they think they "don't fit in" (this is what a writer friend of mine told me before deactivating, i'm just using her own words here).

writing is fun, it's a hobby for us. so when it slowly turns into a task, something we have to do instead of something we want to do, this is when many of us decide to leave

I wish I could eat dirt the way you do. Clamp it between my wisdom teeth, spit out the worms and turn the mulch into stone and gem and something. I wish I could make

some snippets from my notes + images i’ve collected and don’t remember where from

"I am constantly trying to communicate something incommunicable, to explain something inexplicable, to tell about something I only feel in my bones and which can only be experienced in those bones. "

- Franz Kafka

FLAPPER FANNY SAYS, by Anericn cartoonist, Ethel Hays (1892-1989).