Generic pop punk band: you have a new boyfriend, I wish I was six feet under. My life is soooo haaaaard, and I need to take a shower because I haven’t gotten clean in days.
Me:
we're not kids anymore.
YOU ARE THE REASON
🩵 avery cochrane 🩵

Discoholic 🪩
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

Andulka
art blog(derogatory)
Today's Document
d e v o n
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

shark vs the universe
cherry valley forever
tumblr dot com

izzy's playlists!

Love Begins

oozey mess

if i look back, i am lost

tannertan36
Sweet Seals For You, Always
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@brainvsheart
Generic pop punk band: you have a new boyfriend, I wish I was six feet under. My life is soooo haaaaard, and I need to take a shower because I haven’t gotten clean in days.
Me:
The Bleeding House on Fountain Drive
One day in Sept of 1987, Atlanta Georgia resident, Minnie Winston awoke to find dark red splotches of blood in several rooms (on both the walls and floor) of her house. There was blood on the bathroom’s lower walls, the kitchen, living room, bedroom, hallways, and basement. Blood was also found in a crawlspace and under a television set.
The police came, collected samples of the blood and sent them to the state crime lab. It was concluded that the blood samples belonged to a human but the police had no idea where it came from. It didn’t belong to either Minnie or her husband. There was no evidence of a break-in or wrong doing. The couple had never witnessed anything like this before and were terrified. Given the amount of blood they found, it appeared to have been placed, or dripped, on the spot from a very lively source. In other words, someone inside their home had been bleeding profusely. To this day, there has been no explanation of how the blood got there and who it belonged to. The source of the blood was never found.
NY Times Article
Additional Source (since NY Times has a paywall now)
Masterpieces in detail - Sex. Power. Murder. Amen
The Execution of Lady Jane Grey (1833) by Paul Delaroche
Winter Landscape (1869) - Louis Douzette
PET SEMATARY (1989) dir. Mary Lambert
Shane and Ryan’s reoccurring sentiments towards the rich.
do whatever the fuck you want kids
Ukrainian folk art. Edited by Poluyanov PA - Moscow, Leningrad: Art, 1938.
Honestly if your response to "I dont have many skills that would be useful in a post-capitalist society" is "so I guess I'll just be pursuing my intellectual hobbies as my contribution to my community" instead of "so I guess I'll be doing dishes in the cafeteria/janitorial work/manual labor" you should really reconsider how you come at the very concept of work and society as a leftist. Is socialism no longer appealing if you have to do the work you previously took for granted? Is the liberation of the proletariat not worth it if you have to contribute something besides your dream job in academia or leading support groups? Are you really "too good" for "that type" of work, even if it is for a world where no one starves?
we will still have hobbies/run d&d/learn other languages under socialism - in fact, we would likely have far more time to pursue them than under capitalism - but when we think of our future labor, we ought to consider the "menial" tasks that keep society running; loading boxes onto trucks, cooking in a factory kitchen, packaging medical supplies for distribution, building new homes as a worker and not an architect. these jobs will never disappear, and to assume that someone else will do them while you lead workshops or go to school to become a trained professional is to announce your continuing loyalty to petite bourgeois ethics. The dream of socialism is not a fantasy where you continue to do the exact same thing you want to do under capitalism, but now with a clear conscience about it. It's to build a better world as one global movement, to lift up the most oppressed and downtrodden from the muck; a task which requires, above all else, heavy and thankless work that we must be prepared and happy to undertake if we ever hope to succeed.
“The Private Life of a Cat” (1944) - Alexander Hammid
The Death of Orpheus (1977) - Henri Leopold Lévy