
@theartofmadeline
Three Goblin Art
RMH
noise dept.
Cosmic Funnies
One Nice Bug Per Day
NASA
Not today Justin
hello vonnie
$LAYYYTER

ellievsbear

Love Begins
Sade Olutola
todays bird

tannertan36
No title available
Peter Solarz

JVL

#extradirty
will byers stan first human second
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@bittersweetartspace
Christmas Eve (1865)
— by John Ferguson Weir
So true….
hpd
Albert POELS (1903-1984) - Chagrin, 1931.
🫶🌟❤️🫶
1629
1071
©Philomena Famulok
The fog welcomes me as within we are similar.
Ivan Shchepetnov - The Tale of Wanderings
Katherine Blackwell
by Sergey Garifullin
Wolfe von Lenkiewicz aka Von Wolfe
The Truth is Dead. No One Gave a Eulogy.
I posted something yesterday. It wasn't a rant. It wasn't an opinion. It was a simple, unvarnished, inconvenient **truth**.
I slept on it. And when I woke up, the realization hit me like a bucket of ice water in a burning house.
**Nobody. Gives. A. Shit.**
Not a single, solitary damn.
I was a fool. An absolute relic. Standing in the digital town square holding up a raw diamond, only to realize everyone else is happily trading in polished rhinestones and painted dog shit. And they’re having a *great* time.
The world doesn't *ignore* the truth anymore. That would be polite. That would imply it’s sitting there, waiting to be noticed. No. The world actively **reviles** it. It’s an allergen. A party pooper. A wet blanket on the glorious, screaming bonfire of absolute bullshit we’ve all decided to dance around.
We don’t live in a world of mistakes or misunderstandings. We live in a meticulously crafted Theme Park of Fraud.
* **Hoaxes** are the roller-coasters—thrilling, communal, a shared scream into the void.
* **Phony profundity** is the overpriced cotton candy—colorful, sweet, dissolving into nothing the moment you consume it.
* **Fake everything**—news, faces, outrage, compassion—is the park’s architecture. It’s all there is to see.
And the truth? The truth is the rusted, “OUT OF ORDER” sign on the broken water fountain in a forgotten corner. It’s an eyesore. It’s an inconvenience. It suggests something isn’t working in the Happy Kingdom. So we look away.
We can’t handle the truth? That’s too passive. We **don’t want** to handle it. Handling it requires callouses. It requires standing alone. It requires putting down your curated persona and your dopamine drip and actually *thinking*, with the cold, hard light of reality shining on you.
It’s exhausting. And it’s lonely. And the crowd roaring with laughter at the latest digital clown show… they’re not.
So I’ve taken it down. That post. That little slice of truth.
Why? Not because I’m scared. But because I’m disgusted. I will not be the fool providing rare wine to a crowd that only wants to drink fermented gutter water. I will not shout a coherent sentence into a stadium where the only goal is to make the loudest, most senseless noise.
Let the carnival have its night. Let the lies spin and the fakes flourish. The tent is all theirs.
My page is quiet for now. Because casting pearls isn’t just futile before swine—it’s an insult to the pearls.
The truth can wait. It’s patient. It’ll be here, cold and hard and real, long after this circus has burned itself to the ground on its own cheap fuel.
Until then, enjoy the show. I hear the next hoax is a real banger.
Source: The Truth is Dead. No One Gave a Eulogy.