nova @bagarozzocobalto - Tumblr Blog

The Epstein files are not just about pedophilia. Trafficking children for sexual abuse is deeply heinous, so it makes sense that it's captured our attention. But pedophilia is not the point.

The point is that we live with a global network of elites who have enough power to treat politics, laws, public opinion, international treaties, and all other people as personal assets.

The point is that nobody is truly safe or sovereign when a handful of rich assholes have access to this kind of power.

The point is that Epstein being dead and Maxwell being in jail does nothing at all to alter the power structure.

the1v-junkie

ronaldalan

Fit check

dyke-antlers

God I crave domestic intimacy so bad. Here. Let me take off your shoes or heels. Let me kneel at your feet and press kisses into your thighs. I can eat you out before dinner if you'd like? Once you're breathless and satisfied we can have dinner and watch your favorite shows on the couch.

borrowed-thoughts

@korinawray on instagram

ponyboythesong

when you wanna be a freak but you're also mentally and chronically ill so you lowkenuinly leave people hanging

ponyboythesong

when you're thinking perchance fine shyt texted u but it was really just ur hg (i love hg tho ofc)

ponyboythesong

thinking about how rn i could be sexting an older woman till the neediness is unbearable but instead im laying stomach down contemplating whether i should get up or not

moments-in-35mm-film

Cherry blossom nostalgia ༘⋆✿

Camera: Nikon Coolpox 4500

byjove

Getting pissed off at an author for occasionally using uncommon/long/archaic words is so silly, especially in the modern day where you can easily type that word into a search engine to find it’s meaning. There is a stark difference between a writer leaning into purple prose and a writer with a large vocabulary occasionally utilizing words you have not previously encountered.

I personally love discovering a new word while reading, it’s like receiving a new tool for my toolbox. That is part of the reason I like vintage & classic literature, there are between 200,000-1,000,000 words in the English language and we’ve forgotten some very good words.

kategivesup

I had someone beta read my fic a while ago (bit premature) and for the most part they were helpful, but at one point I used to word perturbed and they said “don’t use fancy words, just say he was freaked out.” Um no, actually, he isn’t freaked out, he is perturbed. That word fits both the definition and the vibe. My smutty fanfic may not be highbrow literature, but I do want it to have a vibe. Something was amiss and the audience should know the character found that somewhat more than concerning but not quite disturbing. He’s not panicking yet, but he’s stewing about it. He’s perturbed.

mx-macintosh

y'all need to relearn the word erratic and stop using schizophrenic/bipolar/psychotic as a replacement

mx-macintosh

y'all need to relearn the word particular and stop using ocd as a replacement

weresoul

People need to relearn the word "egocentric" and stop using narcissist/narc as a replacement.

thatpreciousthing

People need to relearn the word "impulse" and stop using "intrusive thought" as a replacement

oneirophasia

People need to relearn the word "callous" and stop using "sociopathic" as a replacement

bagarozzocobalto

people need to just learn new words instead of deminishing the value of other words by using them inaccurately

wholesalemagnesiumoxide

my super inflammatory game design opinion is that no game should ever encourage you to to play every day. yes, this includes animal crossing.

getrealprim

I complained about this the other day but Animal Crossing literally puts roaches in your house if you stop playing, and makes you return for days in a row and squash all of the roaches before they go away. Villagers react in disgust if they come into your house like this

There have been times I’ve tried to get back into Animal Crossing, but that outright disdain for a player who doesn’t play every day is clear. It punishes you for taking a break and the punishment is more daily log ins.

naidje

'The Winged Scourge' (1943)

dykeyuu

this is even funnier when you know that “paris green” is a specific green pigment that contains arsenic (very distinctive shade of pale-ish green, common house paint color before yknow. all that research on how arsenic kills you). little birdies crop dusting the marsh with powdered arsenic<3

inkskinned

you know what? fuck it, man. the world is held in the fists of people who like to break things. at this point i’m saying who gives a shit. wear that victorian dress you don’t have an excuse for. dress up like a witch, pointed hat and all. who cares anymore. why worry about it when there’s bigger stuff to worry on. i’m saying. yeah, this lipstick is too dark, wanna share? i’m saying go talk to her, tell her that you like her hair. i’m saying she’s out of my league but i’m still swinging, i’m saying yeah i’m in a ballgown and it’s a pta meeting. what about it. eat the extra brownie, tell her your feelings. i’m saying if nothing matters than we might as well give nothing meaning.

inkskinned

#i’m saying if existence is a void at least i’m going down screaming.

it’s been 9 years since i wrote this. i was experiencing 24/7 anxiety so badly that i needed serious medication. these days in the back of my car is an “emergency party box.” when people admit they no longer really celebrate their birthday; i tell them to put the sash on and queue up kesha, we’re going bowling or something. these days i can’t spin around without finding something i am enamored with. these days i list 3 things i’m grateful for before i fall asleep. you’re probably one of them, just by virtue of you existing.

at the time i wrote this, i was suffering through a severe panic attack literally every night. i tortured my brother with constant 2 AM calls just to hear someone else breathing, because i couldn’t be alone in the silence.

i rarely wish i was still 23 even though ironically i had more hope back then. what i can tell you is this: i love the same way, but bigger now. i’ve worn the velvet cape to several business meetings. i spent thursday in a crop top without caring what my stomach looked like.

i told her i like her; i often dress as a witch. i still got glass in my foot this morning. i’ve kissed maybe a thousand people since then and met a million more than that; passing like the shadow of a hammerhead in trains and planes and buses.

i saw you, beloved, there, maybe, on platform in south station. you didn’t speak, but you said: i struggle to give the nothing meaning. the nothing fills up everything. it is just loud and yellowed panicked silence. i can’t stop shaking.

on the roof, birds curl together against the chilled spring wind. the sky outside of the craft store was an iridescent pink. the nothing already had meaning; you are giving it meaning by witnessing.

the act of living, beloved: it’s just decoding how to translate it.