>‘this thing is too generic and tropey’
>look inside
>forefather of that genre
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Cosmic Funnies

blake kathryn

gracie abrams
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
taylor price

Kiana Khansmith
The Bowery Presents
No title available
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

No title available
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
occasionally subtle
Fai_Ryy
hello vonnie
Cosimo Galluzzi

@theartofmadeline
YOU ARE THE REASON
$LAYYYTER
Noah Kahan
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from T1
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States
seen from Venezuela
seen from Pakistan
seen from Germany
seen from T1
seen from Tunisia
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Costa Rica
seen from Canada
seen from Pakistan
seen from Philippines
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Türkiye
seen from United Kingdom
@clairedespite
>‘this thing is too generic and tropey’
>look inside
>forefather of that genre
im fucking crying
I respect poetry so much because it does what I cannot do - say so much with so little.
When I have something Much to say, it takes me just as many words to say it. I say it with words that are each of them bland and common, unimaginative by their lonesome, with the hopes that if I stack so many together and squeeze a single drop of Much from each that it might flow into something meaningful.
When I have something to say, I say it twice. I say it three times. Because the first or second may not have captured the point. Because I do not trust myself to express the full essence saying it just once. Like just now, those last two sentences. I’ll repeat myself a third time for good measure - because I do not say it right just once or twice.
Poems say things in only a half, only a quarter. They choose single words worth more than ten of mine. I want to know how their minds shop for words. I want to distill myself like poets do. I want to trade in all my too many common words for the way they use an extraordinary few.
If I keep writing this, I’ll write it forever. I’ll explain myself again, as I have already, as I’m doing now. With more and different other words, with the hope of saying myself fully, like how all the hatched and messy wanton scribbles from a pen might finally color in a page. I want to change that. I want to not rip the page I’ve oversaturated by the tip of my pen.
I’ll start tomorrow, maybe, to explain myself less.
O h...
this sucks so bad i need to [remembers suicide jokes only worsen my mental health] put on the best talent show this towns ever seen
guys this post is a big hit on the adolescent psych ward
Fish in the great lake being like
Wait shit wrong fucking post
Buttercream Joy Sullivan
little bit of advice: if you can't tell if a post online is a joke, you should always assume that it is not a joke and the op is either an idiot with an inflated ego or is lying on purpose for malicious reasons. in both cases the best course of action is to aggressively correct them and insult them, maybe even threaten to kill them
devil may happy :)
Wouldn’t it’ve made more sense to to say devil may smile?
critique my post ever again and devil may angry
Walking into my 9 hour shift and hearing "2 people quit yesterday"
tumblr is great bc its like a diary where I can take other peoples diary entries and glue them into my own diary
recollections
the human brain is so cool, if you're tired and stressed enough, your brain will go, "don't worry, I got you" and shadows will start moving
and what's the genital situation on the shadows
oh this is my post
a cancelled tv show is a kind of dead wife
tumblr in a nutshell
Mitch McConnell will die two weeks from today (8/31/23)
there is no need to charge or cast i just be Knowing
Like i said dont ever fucking doubt me again