scarlet hollow is basically the trolley problem but more fucked up and every day is a different train, and you're the passenger, conductor, and stood outside prepared to flip a switch and you're also the person on the tracks-

pixel skylines
dirt enthusiast
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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Stranger Things

Kaledo Art
Mike Driver
trying on a metaphor
tumblr dot com
Today's Document

oozey mess
we're not kids anymore.

#extradirty

Love Begins
Cosimo Galluzzi

JVL

if i look back, i am lost
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@lesbiantv
scarlet hollow is basically the trolley problem but more fucked up and every day is a different train, and you're the passenger, conductor, and stood outside prepared to flip a switch and you're also the person on the tracks-
by Laerte Coutinho
btw this is laerte. She is 73 now! Making art and being happy! It's never too late to transition
top 3 hobbies for young adults:
1. borrowing misery from future
2. carrying grief of the past
3. agonizing over the present
How do you know you're not Asexual? Maybe you just haven't met the right nobody.
This "allosexuality" thing is just a phase. You just need to have really bad sex, and then maybe you'll change your mind.
if you vote me for president i vow to make everything the ocean again. no more land only ocean. this will solve all of our problems and replace them with new, far more interesting problems
hey friends where is that picture of boromir with the gondor flag except its a pride flag?
Couldn’t find it so I made another because you’re right that it’s a crime and it’s definitely my duty to remedy it
“Dogs don’t know what they look like. Dogs don’t even know what size they are. No doubt it’s our fault, for breeding them into such weird shapes and sizes. My brother’s dachshund, standing tall at eight inches, would attack a Great Dane in the full conviction that she could tear it apart. When a little dog is assaulting its ankles the big dog often stands there looking confused — “Should I eat it? Will it eat me? I am bigger than it, aren’t I?” But then the Great Dane will come and try to sit in your lap and mash you flat, under the impression that it is a Peke-a-poo… Cats know exactly where they begin and end. When they walk slowly out the door that you are holding open for them, and pause, leaving their tail just an inch or two inside the door, they know it. They know you have to keep holding the door open. That is why their tail is there. It is a cat’s way of maintaining a relationship. Housecats know that they are small, and that it matters. When a cat meets a threatening dog and can’t make either a horizontal or a vertical escape, it’ll suddenly triple its size, inflating itself into a sort of weird fur blowfish, and it may work, because the dog gets confused again — “I thought that was a cat. Aren’t I bigger than cats? Will it eat me?” … A lot of us humans are like dogs: we really don’t know what size we are, how we’re shaped, what we look like. The most extreme example of this ignorance must be the people who design the seats on airplanes. At the other extreme, the people who have the most accurate, vivid sense of their own appearance may be dancers. What dancers look like is, after all, what they do.”
— Ursula Le Guin, in The Wave in the Mind (via fortooate)
This paragraph went in so many different directions before it ended. What the fuck Ursula
the best fanfiction you've ever read was written by a woman in her 40s before she made dinner for her kids. it was written by a teenager after school when they should've been studying for a history test. and a barista came up with the idea while they cleaned the espresso machine and busser fact-checked it on their break and the post-doc edited between writing grant proposals and the nurse apologized for typos in the notes after a long shift and behind every drabble and one-shot and multi-chapter fic there is a person with a wonderful and interesting and chaotic life and it is such a privilege that we get to be apart of it because they decided to do this thing we all share, for fun.
don’t worry about it
I think going too deep into anything should warrant a balrog. You scroll too far down on your phone when you should've gotten up an hour ago, you've spent all afternoon sleuthing to figure out why your mom's former neighbour whom you haven't seen since you were 15 and don't give a fuck about got a divorce, you've been ruminating the same situation over and over and over, and a big fuckass beast thing shows up to stop you because you have delved too deep and now you have to fight the balrog.
hate when I type :) and this 🙂 fucker appears. Go away you evil soul
dont worry, i'll be hot and funny again as soon as i'm done fighting for my life right now