276 posts
"to smithereens" is one of the worst things to be blown to. right up there with weezer
houseplant type friend
I'm so sick of people saying water doesn't taste. Water fuckin TASTES
I know you wanted me away But I am called to be the first Pope from the USA I heard that there's a special place where God talks directly to me every time I pray
I'm having holy dreams, of ruling the Holy See Hear Santa Monica, her son is calling me Won't make the bishops proud, the USCCB Will see their bro in Christ, I know they're gonna scream
"God, what will you do? You once were our boy, then you went to Peru," oh Fathers I'm on the balcony In my vestments, they elected me as the
"there is no platonic explanation for this--"
I fell asleep in my friends' arms. It was eleven at night, we were tired, curled up in a small pile on my tiny bed. I had my head buried in my roommate's side, and one of my closest friend's hand on my shoulder, steadying me. It was quiet and nothingness and peace and their heartbeats in my ears, my hands in their hair.
"there is no platonic explanation for this--"
We pack four people to that little bed, you know. Laps used as footrests, collarbones as pillows, little lights like moonlight in rustic yellow bathed on their faces. The TV plays an anime. The words are repeated by my dear friend on my shoulder, curled close. My legs are asleep; my roommate may be, too.
"there is no platonic explanation for this--"
The cat curls on top of our criss cross mess of legs and arms and heads on chests to absorb the warmth of us all. She purrs in contented peace. When my roommate and I are left alone in the quiet, she cries, and watches the door for our friends' return.
"there is no platonic explanation for this--"
I will never kiss them but the top of their heads. I will never touch but the warmth of their arms. I will never take more than what's freely given, and in return I put my glasses on the bedside table fashioned from a guitar amp, and when I lean into their sides, I pick up my vulnerability and place it in their capable, tender hands.
"there is no platonic explanation for this--"
I sing for them. I cry for them. I work and I run and I withstand the worst of the world for them, because some days I get to cradle their forehead on my shoulder and some days I get to see their shining eyes.
"there is no platonic explanation for this--"
Maybe to you. But look beyond explanation. I love them. With my heart in my unsteady hands, with my nose pressed to the side of their head, with the buzzing in my feet and the warmth all around Iike the sunset pushing into the window.
"there is no platonic explanation for this--"
Is it enough to say I love them? With no strings attached? With reckless abandon and utter devotion and freedom and kindness and fear?
"there is no platonic explanation for this--"
I cannot explain it any clearer. I love my friends. There is no more to say.
Ants are a form of thing, known for travelling in cliques. They are small in size, unknown in color, and bashful in temperament. Every ant has two appendages they use to hurt other beings, and four appendages for other activities. Scientists have discovered many types of ants; gay, Protestant, electric, and chill. Their wealth is considered low.
Charles Baudelaire
when gerard way sings "the broken, the beaten, and the damned" and when kermit the frog sings "the lovers, the dreamers, and me" they're talking about the same people btw
*looks at books* too tired for you *looks at films* too tired for you *looks at art supplies* too tired for you *eyes fall on tumblr* oho ho
love my pumpkin
scary my pumpkin
Seriously nothing better than thinking omg I need some water and then drinking water.
spoke deeply to me.
hey here's a website for downloading any video or image from any website.
works w/ youtube, soundcloud, twitch, twitter (gifs and videos), tumblr (video and audio), and most other websites you're probably lookin to download stuff off of.
You ever been in a state where you physically have no energy, but you're bored and socially understimulated so you kind of wish you could just invite people to come over like this:
those days where your entire train of thought is just “I CAN’T FUCKING DO THIS I CAN’T DO THIS I’M NOT GONNA MAKE IT PLEASE HELP ME” and whole time ur just like. sitting at your desk completely fine
There are truly very few forces in the world as strong as the inertia of staying up way too late doing fuckall
my best tip for anyone trying to get back into reading is to remember that you can read books to avoid other responsibilities in ur life and it can become a vice if you play your cards right
god I would be UNSTOPPABLE if I was capable of consistently initiating tasks. just you wait. you'll be waiting a while but just you wait
my knot body, / god given, glittering rot
An Exaltation in Transition by Sol Rios
published by Bleating Thing Magazine
F for Fake (1973) // dir. Orson Welles
when god closes a door you reach your little paws under it and go mrrwwaaaooow mmreeaaow
This is the guy who made the first genetically-engineered babies (a horrific ethics violation that landed him 3 years in prison) and his tweets are so unhinged that I genuinely can't tell if he's trying to be funny or is 100% serious
discord server for silent video game protagonists
IN 150 CHARACTERS OR LESS - Nikita Gill
it can be tempting to live your life like a prequel. to live as if you’re setting up your own story.and once you lose the weight, once you have the money, once you graduate school, once you’re in a real relationship, once, once, once. then finally, you’ll begin to live, and everything you do up until that point is some kind of half-life, some unimportant foreword you can skip. don’t do this. inhabit your life completely. sink fully into the wealth of your existence. the power to manifest is in the fearless owning of who you are, so that you can shape where you’re going.