STARK RAVING SANE

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my name is rodion or rodya i am 20 & also @brindz

goodreads letterboxd terfs fuck off

[bad-moodboard]

Production Design Images from Ginger Snaps (2000)

[celebrityworshipsyndromee]

Mark Handforth, Silver Star, 2004.

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santiago you total bitch i have missed you so bad.

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եպհի լիֆտում հայելի չկա

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Does eric bogosian remember hes armenian

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Armand Told The Truth is so fucking funny. totally patently untrue that bitch has been lying for five hundred years and counting you’ll ask him the color of the sky and he’ll tell you purple just for the love of the game. armand would lie about the time with a watch on his wrist the word for lying derives directly from his name in at least five languages not only is he first place internationally on the lying leaderboard hes lying about the leaderboard too

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rich kids who went to private school will have the most batshit political stances n then you take one look at their family history and it all makes perfect sense…of course your stupid ass voted for qocharyan youve never known anything else with the way your whole criminal ass family has been dickriding him since before you were born

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guy who just yelled ՀՈՐՍ ԱՐԵՎ ԱՐԱ loud as fuck outside i feel you

[disease]

[squaresaw]

So last month I got hit by a car and died right. Which I didn't initially realize until I watched some guy haul my body into his pickup and drive off. Which, being that it's deep in rural Michigan, I assume means my body will make some venison jerky and maybe some wall decoration, and I'll be resigned to being one of hundreds of deer ghosts floating around Saginaw, which is w/e. But then I find out the guy works at a taxidermy shop or something, and he's actually pretty good at stuffing and mounting deer carcasses, which I come to find out when I find myself face to face with my old body in the shop window. So naturally, I figure since ghosts need to possess something to interact with the living world and etc etc etc the most logical thing to do is to possess my own body, since it's basically a statue of myself. And a little surprisingly, it actually fits like a glove. Like, since it's my body, it feels like stepping right back into place. So I get out of town and back to my herd, eventually. And that's where the trouble starts coming into it, because after I get settled again, I don't know how to explain to everyone else what feels so weird. Like since I can move my body and do everything I used to do, it's functionally the same, like nothing happened. Or it SHOULD be, so I don't know how to explain how it's NOT. But it's just hard to explain it to someone who's never been hit by a truck I guess

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knocking on heaven’s door poster for a friend’s birthday gift, 2026, acrylic and paint markers on A3 multimedia paper

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im like a male marla singer

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прыгнул в толпу никто не поймал summarizes pretty much how i feel about my life rn

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for jaj you are and to jaj you shall return

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i am the angel of blogging and i have a message

dont kill yourself!!!!!!!