a scholarly conversation about the future

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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

Love Begins

Andulka

oozey mess

if i look back, i am lost
KIROKAZE
untitled
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Not today Justin

@theartofmadeline

gracie abrams
Sade Olutola
macklin celebrini has autism
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
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2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
$LAYYYTER
One Nice Bug Per Day
EXPECTATIONS

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@fluffpastree
a scholarly conversation about the future
(nods sagely) (nods basily) (nods rosemarily) (nods saltly) (nods star anisely)
they're saying spending 2 hours in the word doc changing words slightly to be more specific and evocative and moving endless commas around is one of the most noble and respected things that you can do
the internet is a place for reading wikipedia articles and watching every movie for free. social media is an invasive species. never forget this
she would do numbers on tumblr.com
In this world of undeniable anxiety and woe, there are also small rocks that want to be manatees.
the kids are calling them "stone fruits." they start off small—think cherries. then they're hooked and they need a quick fix, they get peaches, maybe some nectarines. it's all they can think about. before you know it, they're trying the really hard stuff—apricots, plums. once they taste a mango there's no going back.
Also I found this while in the forest, it made me happy
GOOD WILL HUNTING (1997) dir. Gus Van Sant
The story of a marble worker Evrard Flignot from Brussels who devastated by the death of his wife built a pretty mausoleum for her in Cimetière de Laeken.
At first look inside, there is a mourner reaching out to an empty wall. But, once a year, on the day of the summer solstice, the Sun draws a light that recalls this love for almost a century.
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One must imagine Sisypus happy not because he enjoys the struggle but because the struggle is all he has. Journey on the hill is who he is, without it he would lose all sense of identity. In an absurd world we define the struggle as our identity, identity is all we have and we are eager to maintain it even if it brings us misery.
some poems you really do just walk right into and come out changed beyond all recognition on the inside like lazarus crossing back from the dead