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JVL

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
dirt enthusiast
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
DEAR READER
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
AnasAbdin
Peter Solarz
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

Andulka
noise dept.
we're not kids anymore.
cherry valley forever

@theartofmadeline
Cosimo Galluzzi
RMH
Stranger Things
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Colombia
seen from Spain
seen from Sri Lanka
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Türkiye

seen from South Korea
seen from Vietnam

seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from Singapore
seen from Germany

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Türkiye

seen from Germany

seen from United States
@italwaysflinchesfirst
Hello.
After some deliberation, I’ve decided that I’m going on hiatus. At this point, I have no clue whether this will be temporary or permanent, but it will not be short. A great many things are beginning in my life, and sometimes there are sacrifices that must be made to truly take advantage of those beginnings. This is one of sacrifices.
I thank all of you with whom I have had the chance to interact, and I thank those with whom I have not.
Thank you for everything.
You can’t get blood from a turnip.
Listen…
You need some blood?
I can totally get you some blood.
Set that turnip down
and follow me to the blood.
There’s a lot of blood.
Onlookers remarked that they had never quite heard a scream like that before.
(Not even that time in the barn.)
Further inquiries were directed to the jade statue of a cat who hums almost inaudibly in the Sheriff’s Secret Police’s Secret Garden.
I tried texting back,
but my touchscreen just displayed a photograph of my face
that began to slowly rot,
the eyes deepening until they were sunken holes,
long white hair growing rapidly,
insects crawling from the slackened, decayed maw,
and then the words “UNDELIVERED TEXT” in all caps below it.
...I decided maybe this conversation was one not meant to be.
Staples
Life is a hallucination.
Buy some pens.
Who cares?
The riddle says:
He walks on four legs in the morning,
he walks on two legs at midday,
and at midday, he slithers from dream to dream effortlessly like the air we breathe.
And we love him.
Come to Night Vale.
We will show you fun
in a handful of dust.
StrexCorp management released a series of flares from the darkened horizon,
which spelled,
in Morse code,
“We love your enthusiasm for our products,
“but those helicopters are for your own good and productivity.
“Please.
“Stop taking them.
“Don’t make us ask again,
“or we will have to do a number of unproductive things
“with your human form.”
What’s past is prologue.
What’s future is epilogue.
This right here is maybe chapter four or five.
A memo from the owner of the Ace Hardware on Fifth and Shay Street:
They will no longer tolerate baristas lining up for day jobs in their parking lot.
Every morning at dawn,
dozens of baristas
with newsboy caps,
waxed mustaches,
and knit ties tucked into buttoned sweater-vests
continue to crowd the parking lot,
foreheads beaded with desperation,
and hoping to be picked up to operate unlicensed espresso machines.
This is scaring away the legitimate Ace Hardware customers,
and the baristas will be required to return to their caves just on the outskirts of town, near the Sand Wastes,
in the Barista District.
“There is no such thing as aliens,”
says the vague yet menacing government agency.
“Your grandmother is dying,
“and so are you.
“You have this in common; celebrate it.”
THE WOMAN FROM ITALY, OH MERCIFUL GODDESS!
HER VICTIMS ARE LEGION, BUT THIS EVENING THEY’RE NOT US.
WE GRAB GRATEFUL BREATHS FROM THE NIGHT-SHADED AIR,
BATED BREATHS, FEARFUL BREATHS, BUT BREATHE DEEP. NOTHING THERE.
THE WOMAN FROM ITALY IS GONE, BUT THEN, NOT FOR ALWAYS.
SHE WAITS BEHIND DOORS AND AT THE END OF DARK HALLWAYS.
SHE FOLLOWS NO LOGIC, EXISTS SOLELY FOR SPITE,
BUT YOU ARE SAFE FOR NOW, DEAR LISTENER,
SO GOODNIGHT, NIGHT VALE.
GOODNIGHT.
This
was wrong of her.
And it is my duty to condemn her act
of extreme civic pride
and heroism.
Which is also wrong.
Everything was incorrect,
and not allowed,
and should not be celebrated
or reported on.
Listen.
Listening is dangerous.
Talking, more so.
Things aren’t looking so good for quiet existence, either.
The vague yet menacing government agency would like to address the lights and sounds seen in the scrublands just off Route 800 yesterday.