🖤 In My Dreams, This Is My Home 🖤

reblog with a spoiler for your wip with zero context. no context allowed.

TIL In 1926 the famous pianist Fats Waller (then 21) was kidnapped by Al Capone’s gang to play piano for his birthday. He basically went missing for 3 days and was returned unharmed but drunk.

via reddit.com

Recently saw a video about cursed Tumblr recipes which reminded me of something I cooked up during a summer job at college. It was a drink I liked to call "terminal clarity".

It tastes like every flavor at once for half a second, like your taste buds are being violently electrocuted, only for that taste to immediately disappear and leave behind an aftertaste I can only describe as "void". It tastes like nothing I can possibly portray with words, only that it leaves you hollow and questioning whether taste was an experience that ever existed at all. It tastes like loud silence.

I invented this and immediately got covid the next day as divine punishment for my unforgivable sin.

UPDATE: I found the original discord post I made with the recipe, here it is:

2/5ths sprite

2/5ths XXX Vitamin Water

1/5th Blue Powerade

OPTIONAL: Add a touch of cheap mass produced super chemically comcentrated lemonade (I used minute maid but any will probably work)

If done right it should be unnaturally purple/magenta like this:

dont you love getting blackout drunk and having to piece together what happened/what you did like some sort of self-inflicted murder mystery (without the murder)

i like knowing that i have somewhere i can go back to. i dont like that i know it will have changed when i go back.

mp4 is going to take over catholicism? (edge)

The best quality a fictional man can have is being deeply, pathetically, wretchedly in love with someone, I think

all articles about tumblr’s “decline” boil down to 2 things: you can’t get famous on here and you can’t make money on here. And they don’t get that that’s why we like it here.