Three Goblin Art

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

Product Placement
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
YOU ARE THE REASON
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Claire Keane
occasionally subtle
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Janaina Medeiros
we're not kids anymore.

Origami Around
Xuebing Du

pixel skylines
Today's Document
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Game of Thrones Daily
DEAR READER
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
taylor price

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@badluckbailey-blog
me, a flower cowboy: what in carnation
My father had taught me to be nice first, because you can always be mean later, but once you’ve been mean to someone, they won’t believe the nice anymore. So be nice, be nice, until it’s time to stop being nice, then destroy them.
the situation: *not going the way i want it to*
the people around me: *not loving me, not laughing at my jokes, seem annoyed*
me: *unpacks my spare, emergency personality*
Does anyone have a father who actually did a good job at parenting? That sounds like a myth.
Whenever I see a post like this I feel kinda sad but do realize how truly lucky I am.
I remember that time I accidentally overheard my dad talking with one of his friends, in a random conversation, and him saying ‘blablabla, but hey if she [about me] gets a boyfriend or a girlfriend’ even though I have never brought up sexuality in my life; my dad didn’t assume that I was straight.
I remember that time when I was forced to go on a school trip when I was younger (actually a trip to another country which was a first for me, when surrounded by fellow students that I didn’t get along with all that much) and I got anxiety and home sickness after two days, I called home, and my dad picked up, and he was like ‘okay princess, I got homesick too when I was younger, I’ll come pick you up’. And I remember laughing through my tears because haha, that was sweet of him to say, but that would be a 24 hour drive actually so it was supposedly a joke. Either way I did feel well enough to at least make it through the rest of that day and the night, but then I woke up to this text like ‘I’m nearly here, did you pack your stuff yet? Also I’m kinda lost in this city but I don’t know how to speak Czech and no one here speaks English, do you speak Czech?!’ (Which I really don’t.) Eventually he found a taxi driver and paid the guy to drive ahead of him to get to the address of the hotel where I was staying.
I remember a recent migraine attack and me going like ‘dad, I’m okay enough to go to work now but my vision is still kinda blurry, so could you drive me, because me driving wouldn’t be the safest plan right now’. And him furiously declaring ‘NO, I’m not driving you anywhere, what you’re going to do for the rest of the day is getting some rest.’
I remember that one time when I was on my period and in the worst mood ever and my dad getting home from work and handing me my favorite chocolate, saying ‘I think you might need this’.
And I think everyone deserves that, and it’s so unfair that not everyone gets to have it.
(source: Design Art Studio Ekaterina Lachova Ltd.)
The history of America in one tweet
Smfh this country makes me sick af
If you’re up really late studying for finals, try swapping your contact solution with coffee for a quick pick-me-up.
DENNYS NO
Behold the Moon, photographed during NASA’s Apollo 14 mission, February 1971.
this is like 90% of how I communicate with my best friend
who the fuck brought this back
Towards the whole "pronouns hurt people's feelings" topic. Am I REALLY the only person on the planet that thinks people are becoming far to sensative? Nearly to the point that they shouldn't leave their little home bubbles in the case that a bird chirps next to them in a way that sounds like a mean word. Maybe, JUST MAYBE, we're becoming a little TOO coddling and people need to learn to deal with simplistic shit like words. And yes, I've been insulted and made fun of. I got over it. So can you.
Supposedly invented by the Chinese, there is an ancient form of torture that is nothing more than cold, tiny drops falling upon a person’s forehead.
On its own, a single drop is nothing. It falls upon the brow making a tiny splash. It doesn’t hurt. No real harm comes from it.
In multitudes, the drops are still fairly harmless. Other than a damp forehead, there really is no cause for concern.
The key to the torture is being restrained. You cannot move. You must feel each drop. You have lost all control over stopping these drops of water from splashing on your forehead.
It still doesn’t seem like that big of a deal. But person after person, time and time again—would completely unravel psychologically. They all had a breaking point where each drop turned into a horror. Building and building until all sense of sanity was completely lost.
“It was just a joke, quit being so sensitive.”
“They used the wrong pronoun, big deal.”
“So your parents don’t understand, it could be worse.”
Day after day. Drop after drop. It builds up. A single instance on its own is no big deal. A few drops, not a problem. But when you are restrained, when you cannot escape the drops, when it is unending—these drops can be agony.
People aren’t sensitive because they can’t take a joke. Because they can’t take being misgendered one time. Because they lack a thick skin.
People are sensitive because the drops are unending and they have no escape from them.
You are only seeing the tiny, harmless, single drop hitting these so-called “sensitive” people. You are failing to see the thousands of drops endured before that. You are failing to see the restraints that make them inescapable.
A very civil and important response to a very douchey ask.
This is so accurate... I've never seen it out so clearly...