''what if my writing isn't good eno--'' what if it's a reflection of your of your soul. what if it has a place in this world. what if you write it anyway
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@formerlygiftedpresentlyfckd
''what if my writing isn't good eno--'' what if it's a reflection of your of your soul. what if it has a place in this world. what if you write it anyway
I’m starting to think some of y’all haven’t actually felt the rain on your skin… which is crazy because no one else can feel it for you
Happy Birthday Steve Rogers! Captain America: The First Avenger | 2011
the main problem i have with america is that nothings old as hell there. i cant be so far away from a castle it damages my aura
man people really just say stuff on here huh
Noooo haha don't spread racist ideals and colonizer propaganda by idolizing white european aesthetics above all else and denying the life and accomplishments of native peoples on their own lands
People have been living in the downtown area of Tucson, Arizona for at least 4,500 years. The greater Santa Cruz river valley has been occupied by humans for 12,000 years.
You see this?
That's not a river. That's the South Canal in Mesa, Arizona (Phoenix metro area).
This is a view of the East and South canals. At least half of all the Phoenix metro canals were originally built by the Hohokam (from roughly 200-1400 CE), and are still in use (restored) today.
Phoenix, Arizona actually has more miles (kilometers) of Canals total than both Venice and Amsterdam. No, really. Phoenix has about 180 miles of canals, many of which are built on ancient canal foundations.
below is an aerial view photo taken in the late 1930's of one branch of Phoenix's canal systems:
Also have the "Montezuma Castle," if you need a castle:
I don't need to look at some 12th century European castle to see age.
Also want to point out that many Indigenous nations literally decided to prioritise NOT building permanent buildings. That was a choice they made. You know what permanent human-created things they left instead? THE LITERAL LANDSCAPE. Even though the settlers did their best to destroy it, the landscape was still tended and shaped by Indigenous people. Every biome that exists here was created by some nation or other, every plant was encouraged or discouraged by the local people who ranged in that area.
But more to the point: I don't need fucking buildings to know that people have been here millions of years, the people are here telling me that, and I fucking listen to them.
Well. It's the Fourth Of July. Again.
For those of you who aren't familiar, I live in an exceptionally flammable part of the United States, and despite the fact that every goddamn year multiple parts of my state catch fire, destroy homes and kill people, the local assholes insist on getting drunk and setting fire to a bunch of illegal explosives anyway. In 2023, God granted me a Miracle that prevented my house from burning down.
Last year, I had to resort to Psychological and Chemical Warfare to keep the patriotic arsonists at bay.
This year is apparently An Important Birthday for the clusterfuck we have the nerve to call a nation, so despite the fact there is so much smoke in the air that the sun has literally been blood red for the last week, the pyrotechnic fetishists are out in force.
Last year, I hit upon the concept that if my neighbors were going to act like problem animals, it would make sense to use the management techniques on them that you might use on say, a Bear that was doing serious property damage. Thusly, I created The Stench, a nontoxic but FOUL smelling concoction that I could discretely spray around the flammable gatherings and render the area extremely uncomfortable to occupy for the rest of the night, forcing them to give up or move on.
If this seems harsh: There is no story from 2024 because a grass fire was started by fireworks less than 12 miles from me and the high winds put me in the evacuation zone in under an hour. Over fifty people lost their homes. Errant fireworks burning my house down is a very real possibility, and I pay the price in anxiety and insurance premiums.
The Stench is noxious but harmless, and also very effective at building a buffer zone around my home. But sneaking up to parties on foot in this heat is both exhausting and nerve-wracking. There have to be more effective ways to do this
-And there is! It involves Weeds and Business Cards :)
So it's national Recreational Explosives, Hand Loss and Wildfire day, and unlike 2023, there is nary a drop of rain in sight.
Despite being slapped upside the head by God, my put technically inclined neighbor has acquired TWO pallets of fireworks this year.
The state is of no help: my city police department has made it pretty clear they don't intend to respond to any fireworks calls this weekend. I've sent the pictures I took to the county tipline and received and automated email reply saying that it will take several weeks to process my case. Perhaps he will get jail time later, but this does not actually you know. Stop him from setting the neighborhood ablaze. Going up to his door the week prior and very politely asking him to move- not cancel, just relocate - his celebrations was met with calling me a "nosy bitch" and "I'll set one off in your ass!".
Sometimes God needs us to make our own miracles.
My miracle comes with several layers, and plenty of opportunities to back down without losing face. We'll see how many are needed.
The first wave has already been deployed: a psyop directed at the Visiting Mother In Law of the miscreant.
I got up at 8:30 AM this morning to make sure I'd be in the front yard of my house, casually doing yardwork with Herschel. His participation was essential.
Well, they Psyop seems to have worked! That cul-de-sac, and indeed my entire block is perfectly quiet tonight!
Unfortunately I cannot say the same of the surrounding neighborhood, so it has been necessary to deploy The Stench.
When I was in middle school we would do these weekly things called "Flag Salutes" where the entire school came out to the quad to stand in big ranks and sing patriotic songs. I lived in one of the most conservative counties in America and the teachers took the Flag Salutes very seriously.
We hated them. We didn't really clock the nationalist nature of the thing but we we hated being asked to stand in a big group and sing songs for nobody. It was boring and goofy. Thinking about it now, it really was just our teachers using us as fodder for a Mass Ritual to Prevent 9/11 from Happening Again.
Eventually, some kids developed a sort of game. The ceremony had all these little dramatic pauses between sections of a speech or in-between songs. Kids would wait for those little pauses and, right before the song started, just shout "NINE ELEVEN!" There was a voice for it to. You had to sound kinda like a Patrick Star or a similar exaggerated dunderhead type character.
It made the teachers incredibly mad but nobody ever got in trouble. The trick was to drop the Nine Eleven the moment before the song started so they couldn't stop to focus on who was yelling. Once they start the ritual they couldn't stop it or the spell would backfire and the Taliban Would Get You or whatever.
I was raised agnostic and tend to remain ambiguous on theological matters.
-but my house has a porch on the second story that affords me a terrific view of my neighborhood and the Colorado Front Range and I was partaking of some peace before the 4th Of July Finger-Loss Festivities begin, and I have had a
~*Spiritual Experience*~
I just watched my neighbor try to unload an actual wooden pallet that had to have been forklifted into the back of his insecurity pickup worth of fireworks.
Except that he does not have a forklift in his garage.
He does have so much sports memorabilia and cardboard boxes of unsold MLM Merchandise and patriotically themed camping gear and posters of women in bikinis and flags of suspect political organizations in his garage that there is only BARELY enough space for the fireworks and certainly none for his truck.
So he had to unload the individual boxes of recreational explosives from the back of his truck and stack them in the minimal space he had cleared by hand. This is a tedious and time-consuming process as this neighbor has purchased a wide variety of recreational and locally illegal explosives instead of many of just a few types, so the individual boxes are rather small.
He begins, and this is crucial to what happens next, by cutting apart the industrial-grade saran wrap his explosives dealer had so carefully wrapped his merchandise in, and discarded it unsecured on his lawn.
Where Outdoor Conditions sometimes happen.
i dont care if monday sucks... tuesday cost me sixty bucks... wednesday thursday give no fucks. it's friday im a duck
It's so cool to make friends in the computer (forgets to respond to everyone forgets to talk to anyone)
it helps explain why i love Bucky so much because i am always thinking of The Character's feelings about their body's power and vulnerability
Bucky's conflicts and his presence in the story are such physically embodied stuff. being cut apart and reconstructed! being a super-strong human weapon! the way in the film he physically expresses power and dominance when he's killing people, and later helplessness and submission when he's with his abusers! the way he's A Thing to be used for the purpose he was built for, he is so palpably A Body instead of A Person.
oh to be a pirate being rescued by mermaids
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I really love when cats use their front legs to hold something in place while they use their back legs to kick the absolute shit out of it
Destruction. Annihilation, even