small and tired. @icecream-biter - Tumblr Blog

I cannot express how much I adore dappled shadows formed by sunlight in paintings and photography and in real life

I also adore how this pattern has manifested itself in the form of camouflage for some species

The echo of those same dappled shadows that we paint in our art is genetically coded into a baby’s fur in order to keep her safe. A beautiful thing.

(Photos by Joel Sartore)

aletheyass

murder? what murder? it was an act of mercy. you didn’t kill lestat. you spared him out of some fucked-up idea you had about love. where does the trash go, louis? you take the trash down to the street and some guys show up in a truck and they throw it in the back and then they drive it out to the middle of nowhere, right? no. they take the trash to the dump. and having lived two blocks away from the dump just outside of fishkill, new york, with my first wife, i can state with authority what else you’ll find there. rats. big fucking rats, the size of kevin durant’s sneakers. enough blood in them to bring back the dead. especially one in a trunk with locks on the inside. you knew it, louis. you had to. the biggest rat-eater of them all. [you couldn’t burn him] but claudia could. she stuck a pen in his neck, she recorded his last words in his own blood. the girl did not have a fucking problem tossing him on the grill, okay? was it raining, louis? you cursed her into the darkness. you chose lestat over her, time and time again. you don’t need a memoir, louis. you need a hundred sessions of emdr, you know the shit they put soldiers through when they see one of their platoon buddies get blown up in front of them? 144 years of life, and you’re still louis the pimp, paying a whore to sit in a room and talk with you