watch my frieren amv pretty please? it's called "the sum of our lives" and i like it a lot and i made it :)
watch it on youtube here!!!
dirt enthusiast

blake kathryn
AnasAbdin
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
taylor price
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tannertan36
almost home
Peter Solarz
will byers stan first human second
i don't do bad sauce passes
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
tumblr dot com
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DEAR READER
Cosmic Funnies
One Nice Bug Per Day
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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@misterworldwideweb
watch my frieren amv pretty please? it's called "the sum of our lives" and i like it a lot and i made it :)
watch it on youtube here!!!
Who wanna tell me im a pretty little fag for pride mounth
so you really think there's a bunch of chinese people youve never met living on the other side of the world? and there's like a billion of them? yeah okay buddy
I'm imagining a world where RPGMaker somehow made it as the de facto codebase for software and you have to navigate your banking app by walking around in a huge room full of NPCs named "make deposit" and "make withdrawal" etc and there's loud as fuck stock music playing
mischievous puppy
dogs can use “DOG BEAM”. which has an effecvt on you which is whatever the dog wants
we are learning a lot about tumblr today
today:
pjackk was unbanned because @3liza finally got through to staff about a fucking weird bug with the support form that got the metal bastard banned because it claimed he posted some Bulgarian nationalist shit (this was not a real post that pjackk ever posted). other high-profile bans like @garaks-padded-bra was hit with the same bug and its being investigated
there was a new feature added that lets people see your comments on your blog page in a tab like your likes or followers. everyone was mad that it was not toggle-able. it was actually toggle-able.
pjackk was either banned again or he deactivated and we'll know in 30 days when the deactivation grace period is up and his blog is renamed
• a ton of trans women have gotten banned recently
❨・¨⬮
esnupi
all of the numbers that are divisible by 17 sound so absurd. 51? 68? 85? ridiculous. 102? absolutely not. and don't even get me started on 119
34 and 136 i can believe, but i feel like i shouldn’t. it’s 102 in a trench coat
did we just run out of posts to make
no, i haven't made a post about every number yet
I'm sorry to let you know that 100,000,001 (one hundred million and one) is divisible by 17 and because of that, so is every 16-digit number that is four digits repeated four times e.g. 1234123412341234
I want to print this and hang it on my bedroom wall. How do you live like this?
this person is posting from 1690
truly there are only so many words
you can harvest swag particles from baby kitties
people really are going like "transmisogyny is real but every individual trans woman is bad and evil so it cancels out"
guy who owns multiple criterion blu-rays: perhaps today we could watch a film from mu physical media collection?
guy from 2006: do you have dude where's my car
guy(?) from 1862: and these hormone remedies you spoke of earlier, they allow you to develop sexual characteristics of a female? is that true? are they expensive?
me: nah theyre not that expensive, i can hook you up bartholemew. seconding dude wheres my car
guy who owns multiple criterion blu rays: i do not own such a movie physically
me: its chill its on tubi
guy from 2006: tubi rocks
me: yeah tubis chill. here [plays the movie]
girl from 1862: BY JOVE? ARE THESE MOVING PICTURES? HOW FASCINATING! ...do they make pornographic content like this?
me: im about to blow your whole world batty baby
i know we’re both just messing around pretending to be whole but look at me. if the train was coming would you move. if the ground was falling from under your feet would you even notice or would it just be another tuesday for you. if somebody stabbed you could it hurt worse than you already do. what i’m saying is that i love you but i think we both drive over the speed limit when it’s raining. what i’m saying is that i want to hold your hand and i understand about how you sometimes have to sit down in the shower. what i’m saying is that i’m here for you and if the train comes please move.
i wrote this 7 years ago, somehow. every day someone else finds it and whispers to me - oh, i understand this. something always turns in the wash of my stomach: i am so, so glad you feel seen. i wish you had no idea what this post was about.
i wrote this while working in a program for new writers. on wednesdays, two of the teachers would be contractually obligated to read our writing aloud to the group of 300+ teens. i had never read my work in public before. i had something like 6k poems and was panicking about it. none of them are good enough. sometimes the train is howling. it is hard, actually, sometimes, even as an adult.
and then i thought - what is one thing i wish i could tell all of them. each of these 300 kids. what did i need to hear, at 16?
i wanted to tell them about the day you wake up, and the sun feels warm finally. i wanted to tell them about carving a life out of soapstone, your hands turning bloody. i wanted to tell them that sometimes yes - it actually does feel easy. i wanted to tell them about weddings and cookie dough and long road trips. about albums of new music and old friends laughing and the sound of snow falling.
you will learn the pattern of the train. you will learn to close your eyes when you hear the engine rumbling. you will learn to let yourself have the grey days in their lily-soft numbness. sometimes it will feel like life is wet paint, and god has smeared your canvas across a sewer grate. sometimes it will be so boring it isn’t even pronounceable - the tenacious, soundless blankness. survival isn’t just ugly nights and wild mornings. it is also the steady, unimportant moments. it is just driving with your seatbelt on. it is calling a friend on the way home. it is burying your face into the fur of your dog.
when i had finished reading this poem aloud, the auditorium was silent for a solid minute. someone stood up to take a picture of where it had been projected onto a screen, and then three more people followed the action, and then - like a bad internet story, people remembered they were supposed to be clapping. kids came up to me after it - thank you for writing that. i think i hear a train coming.
i would write this differently now, i think, but it has been 7 years. i still live by the tracks. i also haven’t picked up a blade in over 10 years. the scars are still there, but these days i only pick up scissors to cut my hair. i know why you can’t tell your mom about it. i know how the numbness slips over everything, a restless horrible cotton. i know how when you dropped the dish, you weren’t crying about the broken glass. i know about feeling like all the roads have closed their exits, that you aren’t supposed to still-be-here - and yet.
i am still here, and still yours, and i haven’t forgotten. what i’m saying is if any hope is calling to you - i know it’s hard, but you have to listen. i’m saying keep driving, but slow down the car. sit down in the shower, i’m not judging you. we can stay in the dark with the good hot water and do nothing but stare. notice the stab wound. make it through another tuesday.
i know what it is like to miss yourself. do what you need to. come home to me. i am writing to you, my past self, from the future. i’ll be waiting for you.
and when the train is coming - please move.