noise dept.
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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
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PR's Tumblrdome
tannertan36
Today's Document
Misplaced Lens Cap
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AnasAbdin
trying on a metaphor
Xuebing Du
tumblr dot com
Cosimo Galluzzi
shark vs the universe
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Origami Around
Jules of Nature
#extradirty
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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@eloquentutterances
Dashcon 2: Down2Clown
Teya of the Strange Aeons YouTube channel — Gonzo Internet Researcher extraordinaire — was not only a guest at Dashcon 2, she made a documentary about it! It was really heartwarming and funny.
YouTube video: "Dashcon Is Resurrected: The Entire Story Of Dashcon 2"
you guys made luigi mangione trend for days and I need to see the same energy for brianna boston. she is a 43 year old mother of three who ended a phone call with blue cross blue shield (after being denied a claim) “delay deny depose, you’re next” and is now being held under a 100,000$ bond and could face FIFTEEN years of prison if charged. she has no weapons, her record is clean, and yet she is being held behind bars. they are afraid of the public and are trying to subdue. do not let them!!!! say her name!!! be outraged that our freedom of speech is being threatened!!!!! deny defend depose! free brianna boston!
Random Headcanon: That Federation vessels in Star Trek seem to experience bizarre malfunctions with such overwhelming frequency isn’t just an artefact of the television serial format. Rather, it’s because the Federation as a culture are a bunch of deranged hyper-neophiles, tooling around in ships packed full of beyond-cutting-edge tech they don’t really understand. Endlessly frustrating if you have to fight them, because they can pull an effectively unlimited number of bullshit space-magic countermeasures out of their arses - but they’re as likely as not to give themselves a lethal five-dimensional wedgie in the process. All those rampant holograms and warp core malfunctions and accidentally-traveling-back-in-time incidents? That doesn’t actually happen to anyone else; it’s literally just Federation vessels that go off the rails like that. And they do so on a fairly regular basis.
So to everyone else in the galaxy, all humans are basically Doc Brown.
Aliens who have seen the Back to the Future movies literally don’t realise that Doc Brown is meant to be funny. They’re just like “yes, that is exactly what all human scientists are like in my experience”.
#WordOfTheDay: besmirched (thanks to @oldbiddyyelling) https://twitter.com/oldbiddyyelling/status/977766309092933633
What did the Millennial say to the Baby Boomer? Avocadon't.
#WordOfTheDay: gall (thanks to @PennyRed) [yesterday] https://twitter.com/PennyRed/status/979374917308354562
559.
Fallen for your words.
Now what?
- 6-word agony
Dare I write my own, in reply?
- 7-word hope
Meritorious words from friends…
am I equally clever?
-8-word timidity
Come join the merry bandwagon, always room for more
- 9-word invitation
I’ll provide the tea; bring your hat. Madness parties here.
- 10 word truth.
Do not preclude anything except judgement and boredom. Possibilities reign supreme.
- 11-word celebration
What did the Millennial say to the Baby Boomer? Avocadon't.
However we are
We make love, under stars, Dark new moon, rising Mars On a freezing winter’s night And in warm morning light Peeking under my bedroom blind While birds sing outside.
Slow shift of clothing Wriggling and undressing Your breath in my ears, Hands touching, caressing; Loving every part of my body, Stroking every inch of yours.
We spend hours in bed At the desk, on the couch In a comfortable chair, Reading poetry aloud.
You seduce me with your words Others’ words, spoken In your oh-so-delicious accent Voice warm and mellow.
Read to me, Lover Cover to cover Until we are Uncovered
Throaty whispers resonate Confident flicks vibrate Back arching, pleas Pleading Wanting Needing
You reach me At my core Need nothing More at all. Trembling, Quivering Blessed release Soft laughter.
This is how you touch me.
Come with me, Lover There are wor(l)ds to discover.
I was in awe before, but now I'm really staggeringly impressed.
thirteen word truth.
“Tell me a story,” he says.
And I think to myself: “I have so many to tell, even dear Scheherazade would become bored. Where would I start?”
To which the answer appeared:
Thirteen word truth:
This is my latest writing for you. The others are still being unravelled.*
(*accurate at time of writing)
You know, you ought to know better than to ask me these things at this time of night. If I wake up with a *different* story in my head during the night that prevents me sleeping, I’m going to exact revenge on you somehow. :o)
They say that revenge is sweet, And a dish best served cold. Yet I bet Your revenge Will be wrought with words. And I reckon they will warm the heart as well as the soul.
“There’s this thing you do, where you make people fall in love with you.”
The scowl deepened on his features and a blush deepened on mine.
“They fall in love with you - we all do - I did - because you make them feel so special, when they’re not. They’re just one of a long line. Each of us thinks he’s your favourite, that you love us, and it’s all a fucking lie.”
The angry bitterness in his voice slices me to my core.
The tears in my eyes threaten to spill over.
“That’s not true, I do love you,” but I am defenceless against his tirade. There is enough truth in his ugly words to deepen my shame about the carelessness with which I bestow and show my affection.
“No, you don’t. You share things with them you don’t share with me. You’re a fucking liar, and I’m done with this game and you.”
“Please, it’s not like that. I don’t talk with anyone like I do with you.” My voice sounds hollow and weak, even to my own ears.
“You gave him things you won’t give me! For fuck’s sake, you sent him pictures! This isn’t love. Stop being delusional. If it’s love then you love far too easily.”
For uncountable weeks, months, over a span of years, I will cry myself to sleep (or lay awake for interminable hours) because he is right: I do love far too easily. I’m not a good woman; and I lead people on and I bring my misery on myself and people I care about.
It is years before I start to reconcile this in my heart. I see the best in people until I have a reason not to. I like to flirt with people I can trust. How is that bad?
Sometimes, I think I love by default. I never really understand why people love me, why they fall in love with me. I don’t do it on purpose. I feel like a fraud made of smoke and pixels and shimmering beauty that is an illusion filtered through copper and silicon. I am not yet the real me, and sometimes I fear I never will be.
It's like our reality grates on the rest of society, yet we can't or won't judge it for being closed-minded.
