#1dumpsterdiver

the boys deserved better :,)

[cavebaby2]

Brother ordred pizza. I’m hungry. Bite into it like it’s the first meal I’ve had in the past week and it’s. really bad. Ask him why, as is a good course of action. It’s ‘The Walter’.

Walter tastes. Like cigarette butt personified. Like food stain on deadbeat dad’s wifebeater. Hell hath no fury like The Walter on my tastebuds on a lonely Thursday night. Whoever Walter is, fire him, and send him to my house where I’ll make him “The Woman Scorned” and he will pray he learns how to absolve himself of his sins.

[cavebaby2]

I don’t think I’ve never not needed her. I like to think that I don’t, but sometimes I still look for her in social media, or I think the unnamed account is her in some secret attempt to find me. I look up obituaries under her name just to be sure, and I write poems about her when in reality I don’t know anything about her. Not anymore. I don’t know what her name is; perhaps she changed it again. I don’t know what new show she loves, I don’t know whose lap she rests her head in. I don’t know the name of the girl who might be running her fingers through her hair.

But I do know the smell of her shampoo, and what her favorite shirt once was. I know that look in her eyes when she smiles, the way they squint slightly. Her smile, that’s something I know well. I know because it was the only thing I lived for seeing, because I could tell the difference between the awkward smile she had in pictures and around people she didn’t know too well, and the smile she had when she laughed at my laugh or smiled at me or a joke I made. I know the feeling of her lips on my neck, but not on my own. I feel like if I had kissed her, even just once, I would feel whole. I wouldn’t feel the need to keep searching for her, like a man seeking out water in a desert.

It feels like the need for water after you’ve gotten sick. The way your body aches and yearns and begs for hydration; I beg for her in ways she may never know again, but just maybe the wind catches on it and carries it to her house. Maybe when it sweeps through the window, or over her skin when she walks out of the door, maybe then she thinks of me. God, I hope she thinks of me.

[cavebaby2]

“you should have screamed” and risk the assaulter doing something worse? not to mention the internal war at being seen, having your dignity stripped in such a traumatizing and disgusting way, by someone you don’t know? the situation is dehumanizing enough, we don’t need a witness.

“you should have pushed him off” what if they can’t? if they’re overpowered, or they aren’t facing their assaulter? do you think they wouldn’t try every single thing to get out?

“what were you wearing?” clothes aren’t fucking consent. some wore their work clothes, some wore princess pajamas. the fabric on our bodies aren’t indication for you to put your hands on us.

[cavebaby2]

I don’t need flo to tell me when my period is, I know when I get the unfathomable urge to spend money I don’t have on something mildly disturbing for an equally disrespectful part of my body.

[cavebaby2]

I have said stupid things when I garden.

What’s worse is saying “have a tacotastic gay” to the fruity Tacobell person who just innocently told me to have a tacotastic day, while 100%, balls to the walls sober. I never saw him there again.

I’m sorry Lucas. You haunt my nights and keep me awake.

[cavebaby2]

In my head Dean Winchester ironically would have voted for Kamala. I know this because the hick who has been a family friend for years came to my house with a shirt (that was white)(which he wrote on with sharpy) that said “Trump is as orange as your carrots and as stupid as a Rooster with a bad internal clock”

He also went on a tangent about how he hated him. Now I adore him (the hick) (his nickname is Tallahassee bc he looks like Woody Harrelson).

That’s all.

[cavebaby2]

I have an oddly platonic friendship with my (former) smoke shop guy.

He got nailed with selling bud without a license and was gone for like three months, and two weeks ago he was back.

Legit made cupcakes and brought three to his store to find out it was shut down again. Still didn’t eat the cupcakes. I miss my homie 😔

[letsdropdeaduniverse]

[cavebaby2]

Hey so I know I cry a lot but I’m going to be angry for the next four years and no one can tell me I can’t because I’ll frame them for public indecency. Thank you, shut your mouth now.

[cavebaby2]

I sense a disturbance in my uterus.

[cavebaby2]

I love him so much. I love him so much and the armor that grew on my ribs is breaking. He’s breaking it and I’m letting him. He’s breaking it, and it’s bending under his touch, and I’m obsessed with the vulnerability of it. I’m obsessed with letting him break my armor. I don’t need it anymore.

[cavebaby2]

My kids absolutely will NOT be coming to me, fighting, screaming whose turn it is on the ps1,5000. It would actually be more accurate to assume it would be:

“Mom, Eden keeps saying that it’s her turn to lay on the cold dark earth but I still have 15 take me to churches left before I’m done.” - My son, Hoziest

(And Eden is probably just decomposing with Eurydice next door and screaming over the shaking of the bough of the willow tree in the back yard saying it’s her turn)

[cavebaby2]

“But your pretty”

Ok but why can’t I look like Hozier? Exactly. Shut your mouth.

[mishaesque]

obsessed with this shot from dead in the water in which the guys shouting from the dock are clearly two completely different people in sam and deans clothes but like???? they didn't even get the height the right way round?????

[cavebaby2]

I’m crying laughing right now. Why didn’t I realize this? Why does it look so, so very wrong. I’m crying.

[cavebaby2]

When I was younger I was eating down writing those little stories during ELA and I found a hella old notebook from back in like 5th grade, and I think we were doing smt for Memorial Day, so we were writing about soldiers, and one of the lines in what I wrote said:

“And my father’s father fought so he didn’t have to. And my father fought so I didn’t have to. So I’ll fight so that my son doesn’t have to, even though it’s [kinda] useless.”

Like lowkey I ate some of those stories (imo), but I’m pretty sure the next day I wrote a poem comparing my mom’s teeth to the rock walls you see in the woods, so idk.

[cavebaby2]

I really wish that there was more of Sam using his powers. Not like demon-powers, even though it would’ve been awesome to see that draw out longer, but I’m talking like— the visions, the literal TELEKENISIS

I wish that THOSE powers stuck around like, persay, for ever? Like I would have loved to see Sam and Dean in a tight space, and have Sam’s powers randomly kick in. Like uh oh, dropped my machete, and then it flies back into his hand. Or when the whole Chuck thing happened— I wish that he got visions of that, or that he got visions of what happened after it. Like how and why did they just drop that entire thing? Why was it that the only time we saw him use his telekinesis, was when he was getting out of a closet. GOD I wish we saw more of it.

[zombiegirldean]

the bon jovi scene from the season 3 finale still makes me cry sorry. sam's like okay so you know how you're about to fucking die and dean's like haha I veto this emotional moment shhhh we're not talking about it. instead I offer you bon jovi masculinity cowboy song! and sings along for JUST LONG ENOUGH that sam laughs and relaxes and starts singing too and then Dean stops singing. drops the show. eyes on the road. we the viewer realize that was just smoke and mirrors special effects for sam's benefit. to make him smile. and distract him. to give him one last good memory. we the viewer know this but. Sam doesn't. he's still singing.

[cavebaby2]

“He’s still singing.” You need prison right this moment.