world heritage post
its not nice to call someone light yagami
listening and learning
dirt enthusiast
trying on a metaphor

tannertan36
Show & Tell

Andulka
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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Product Placement
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NASA
Not today Justin
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TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Three Goblin Art
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One Nice Bug Per Day
Monterey Bay Aquarium

Janaina Medeiros

JVL
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

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@moltenmountain
world heritage post
its not nice to call someone light yagami
listening and learning
Ribbon dancing I was not aware of your evolution 🤯
all i need is a sweet treat. and six thousand dollars
I’m ready to be transformed by the ibuprofen . I’m ready to be born again in its purifying light.
There is a reality not so far from our own in which Ratitouille (2007) was filmed as an avant-garde conceptual horror akin to Eraserhead (1977)
There is a young American man in France. His mother has passed away. He has few friends, and works the thankless job of a bus boy in a prestigious restaurant, but dreams of becoming a chef despite having very little skill.
He returns one night to his humble apartment, which is known to have vermin, and comes across a rat, which he could easily kill or set loose on the street.
But the rat- it is special. It seems to speak to him. Promises him every little thing he desires- talent, fame, and fortune. Recognition and esteem like he has only ever seen from afar; fine company like the wealthy men and women whose scraps he picks at over the sink.
Put me on your head, the rat says. Put me on your head and think of nothing.
It is strange at first, yes. Strange to feel another take control of his life and live it better than he ever could. To see miraculous things created with his own two hands, to feel his feet move in graceful and fantastic ways with a confidence he has never had.
But the rat delivers as he had promised: he receives promotions, notoriety, admiration. He is noticed. Envied. Every day is a waking dream, rubbing elbows with beautiful women and handsome men and influential personalities who lavish him with praise. It is addictive, this lifestyle- never mind that he is only ever truly conscious of it as a passenger of in own brain.
It is when he has reached heights few can ever conceive, with all that the rat had ever promised- a beautiful wife in a beautiful house with all the world in his palm, in possession of all the wealth and success a man could ever want, that the rat says that it is leaving.
Leaving? The rat cannot leave. Everything he is, the rat has provided.
"I have delivered on our bargain", the rat says. "I have brought to you all that you have ever dreamed. What more could you desire? I must live my own life, now."
The man is furious. He is terrified. He destroys the rat, in all of the ways that a rat can be destroyed, until nothing is left of it but a fine smear of marinara sauce.
He returns to the restaurant the next day moving like the shell of something hollowed-out and brittle. He cooks well- his fingers remember the movements, his eyes recognize the patterns, his mouth knows without his asking what orders to speak and what platitudes make patrons smile pleasantly with their straight white teeth.
He retains the talents of the rat. The charm of the rat. All the worldly pleasures the rat had provided him.
Still, it seems, he is little more than a vessel for the talents of the rat.
But the rat is gone.
What remains of the man?
i always thought it was funny how in the lord of the rings sam and frodo head out and after awhile sam’s like “mr. frodo if i take one more step this is the farthest from the shire ive ever been” and then a ways after they meet up with merry and pippin on their daily vegetable run like jesus christ sam get out of the house once in awhile
the thing about fruit flies is that in the abstract, they live peaceful and irreproachable lives nibbling on overripe fruit and its attending microbes, but practically speaking they awaken some sort of primordial rage within me. Get off my bananas you little fucks
I should be doing more to appreciate the lack of marvel movies in today's popular culture. I once yearned for marvel movies to have this level of irrelevance. They used to feel almost ozymandian, like an empire that had no beginning and no end. and now tony stark iron man is naught but two vast and trunkless legs of stone.
The spirit is weak the flesh is weak and me also I feel not so willing
This man needs to be hunted for sport.
WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE MADE HIMSELF ONE TOO
basketball dracula isn't real dude he can't-- *sudden squeaking noises from the shadows*
*two pool toys having sex tumble by in the wind* oh thank god
*thunderous slam dunk noise*
HOW IS MY SISTER STRAIGHT UP CARRYING A GUZHENG?????