One Nice Bug Per Day
almost home
todays bird
Peter Solarz
@theartofmadeline
Origami Around
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
JVL
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#extradirty
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
RMH
Stranger Things
No title available
Product Placement
Cosmic Funnies
izzy's playlists!
Claire Keane
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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seen from Malaysia
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@forgot-my-line
- wish i could do nothing with you
willing and able- noah kahan/ option on a poll from @stargirldotcom/ frog and toad/ @death-born-aphrodite/ our last night- better than ezra/ @stargirldotcom/ everything, everywhere, all at once/ @death-born-aphrodite/ calvin and hobbes
“feeling like a person again” collection
so far one theme of the 30s for me has been realizing that literally every human being on earth who appears completely cool and collected and together with it at first glance has some threshold past which enough known information about them will shatter that mystique completely. i don't even say this negatively or pessimistically it's just been helpful to keep in mind that we're all like that.
a little reminder! by annalaura_art
a little reminder! by annalaura_art
sometimes when i go for a walk i look at the sky and realize that i really love earth & nature like i just get this really nice feel. i love it
It does matter. It matters exactly like this.
Last month I was in the ER, the most vulnerable emotionally that I've ever been while putting myself in the hands of a stranger. That the intake doctor had a lanyard heavy with Pride pins mattered. It's such a tiny gesture, but the amount of safety I felt because of it, during an agonizing moment in my life, was huge.
New Secret Knots comic, "The River". I hope you like it!
The Secret Knots comics are made possible by my patrons. Check out my pledge tiers if you'd like to be one of them.
Words by Chen Chen
Absolutely wild to me how sometimes you don't even realize the way you'd been taught to perceive things as a kid was kinda fucked up, actually, until decades later.
Example:
As a kid, I constantly lived in fear of damaging shit in my parent's house. The walls. The floors (especially the floors. The wood was beautiful. Shiny. But so easy to scratch). The cabinets.
As a sixteen-year-old, I once took my car to the dealership after work and paid a very dear sum of $250 ($10/hr cashier salary) to fix a slight scratch in the paint because I knew if my father saw it there would be hell to pay. It didn't matter that I parked far out, like I'd been taught, and someone scratched it anyway. It was my fault. I failed in my duties as a steward of my vehicle.
Every time I scratched a rim on a curb while parallel parking or got a door ding or, god forbid, didn't wash and vacuum that car every weekend, it was treated like some sort of moral failing.
Last year, when my husband and I first moved into our house, he scraped the side of our car when parking in our (Very Narrow) garage. When he told me, my first instinct was to be afraid for him. Like something terrible was going to happen to him because of this mistake. I urgently reassured him that it was okay, it was an accident, I wasn't mad. Baffled, he was like, "Yeah? I know? Like, thank you for the reassurance, but I'm only a little annoyed, I'm not upset. It's just a car." And I had to take several minutes to process that. It's...just a car.
We keep the car tidy. We maintain it. But we wash it maybe 4x a year. We only vacuum it after dirty road trips or when the dog hair starts to get annoying. It has scrapes and dings and the leather seats have stains. But that's ok. Because it's just a car.
This morning, I realized that a small rock had gotten embedded in the felt foot on one of our bar stools. Neither of us had noticed. There are now scratches on our beautiful hardwood floor. My immediate response was fear accompanied by a heavy measure of paralyzing guilt. "I'm so sorry," I told my husband, "I should have noticed. I'll figure out how to fix it, I swear. I can probably sand down that section and match the stain and--"
"Whoa, hey," he said. "It was an accident. And it's fine. Floors are going to get damaged. They're floors. We live here. There was damage in places before we even bought the house, remember? It's not a big deal. It's just a floor." Right. It's just a floor. Right.
My husband's mom is visiting and this afternoon, as I was sitting in the kitchen looking at the scratches on the floor, I offhandedly asked her if my husband had ever broken or damaged anything as a kid. "Of course," she said. Household items. A TV. A wrecked car during his teen years. I asked how she punished him.
"Why would I punish him for things like that?" she said. "They were all accidents."
Right. Of course. Right.
quick sketches of my apartment building
"I asked chatgpt-"
Well I asked the host of the community radio station of a small desert town and he said "Don't let numbers tell you what to do. You are blood and earth, not theory and chalk", so maybe think about that.
beautiful day to think about what you had and can no longer have
