trash art for trashy people @degenerate-thoughts - Tumblr Blog

applications have so many sidequests

If I could be any animal I think it would be a human

Sex scene

He thought about kissing her. He thought of the slick shit he would say right before grabbing her by the waist and pulling her in. He thought about what if she didn’t wan He thought about taking her up to his room. He thought about how funny his Lightning McQueen sheets would be, but like, how under the circumstances it would turn her on. He thought about how cute that sunflower miniskirt looked, and that it would look even better crumpled on the floor next to the bed. He thought about the order in which he would take her clothes off. He thought about that for a long time. He tried to imagine which positions she liked. They were probably the same ones he did. He thought about doing them with her. He thought of how he would convince her to do the weird stuff. It wouldn’t be too hard. All girls are sluts at heart. He thought about the clap of her ass slapping against his thighs. He thought of all the sounds her body would make. Then the sounds her mouth would make. They wouldn’t be words, because her mind would be dripping out of her pussy until she couldn’t make a sound. But he would be able to tell by the look in her eyes and heat of her breath. He is the hero and she is the damsel that needs saving. Why don’t they ever understand? He would show her. He would save her whether she wanted him to or not.

Vanisher

The hitchhiker vanished forty minutes outside of Camp Verde, in the space between the driver’s thoughts. After that it was the gas. The driver steered the truck onto a flat patch of indigo desert near the only streetlight in sight and searched the airstream for an extra can. Returning, he found the truck missing as well. And so it went, clouds, roads, cacti, and other random access memories, one after another, until the game was so basic a child could play it. That’s how he lived from then on, with his eight-bit airstream and one streetlight. But his memory, it lost some space as well. So often he was close to realizing how small his world had become, or maybe he did………but duty calls, and the bud in the fridge won’t drink itself. Above the fridge was the window. The one-shade darkness outside said nothing. He tried to remember when the darkness said things…. “Not okay,” it said in sharpie on his arm. “Not okay,” it said in sharpie on his chest. “Kill yourself,” it said in sharpie on his forehead. What a funny prank he must have played on himself. Haha. He went to grab a beer. “You always forget,” it said in sharpie on the fridge. He wiped the blood off of his hands. Maybe he needed to go to the hospital. Hospital? The word shimmered like water in the breeze. He wiped the blood off of his hands. “You Vanished,” said a very recent scar on his palm. What could it mean? He wiped the blood off of his hands. He set the thirty rack on the coffee table and sat back down in the chair. There were seven minutes left in the fourth when he noticed the knife sticking out of his chest. He must have slipped on his way to the kitchen. Oops.

Still life

He was on his way out the door when it struck him just how still the house felt. Lights off, sun up, it made him think of a warehouse in old Hollywood, full of forgotten sets and halted productions. How ironic, he thought, that this natural light made him think of death and not life. There was life before electricity, and there will be after, too, so why did these walls cry out that they had lost their meaning? He took out a pen and wrote “two skylights - dining and living rooms” on his hand. He had time for just a few pictures. The teabags sitting defeated at the bottom of their mugs. The shadowplay of the bonsai tree on the well-worn coffee table. The reflection of the sunlight off of the shattered vase in the corner. He grinned, knowing that with some planning he could recreate the effect at his place. It was unfortunate that she would never get to see it. He took one more picture, since her body looked so good in this lighting. He tipped his hat to the policemen as he passed them around the corner, and wondered if they would find her ravaged body as beautiful as he did.

9:03 12/12/18

Picture: A flag No not that one Something different No not that one This flag has no stripes No colors No truce is being called This flag has nothing on it Represents no one A colorless red flag Nothing

You talk like someone who knows the sun will rise again. I have to see it for myself, so I;ll probably be sleeping in. You talk like someone who’s got meaning waiting in your bed. No, Don’t go! is it something I said? Dawn is my finish line, the only sign that I'll be fine, when their doors begin to open again, I can let the party end. not for good, for now, for better or worse.

masksrosbarn (dandelion child)

#degenerate #trash #portrait #photooftheday

has anyone seen my mechanical pencil? i think i dropped it in mr. helmsing’s classroom during f block. i know it doesn’t seem like a big deal but it was my good pencil. it still had a full eraser!!! please if you see it laying around tell me