PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Peter Solarz
NASA
blake kathryn
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Origami Around
titsay
Cosmic Funnies
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Today's Document
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Janaina Medeiros
Sweet Seals For You, Always
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
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Product Placement
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@musical-death
denying yourself enjoyment of things because you don't want to be 'cringe' is the most cringe thing you can do actually. like what are you, catholic?
like, you're going to refuse to engage with anything that feeds your emotions with rich and delicious new sensations in case you fall to the temptation of unironically having fun? okay john harvey kellogg jr.
the writing tip to write more detail for slow scenes and less for fast ones fr changed my life
writers will really have a doc titled āfic planningā and then itās just blank
writers will say āiām going to write!ā and then do something else with the doc open in the background
writers will literally put out the most heart-wrenching and devastating piece of fiction thatās a million times better than the source and go haha hope you liked :)
writers will have a life changing event happen to them (married, natural disaster, accident etc etc) and then still manage to put out an incredible fic and go āsorry this was 0.394838373 seconds late guys :(ā
writers will go ālove writing!ā and then donāt write for 10 years
anyway i love writing and i love writers
What a callout
writing tip:
if you push buttons on a keyboard, letters will appear on the screen. and with that power you can do anything
Ā i think it was cruel to give lightning mcqueen a foot fetish, as he lives in a world where all feet are wheels. he has nothing.
sorry i wasnt talking to you i think
what you need to understand about recommending a show to me is that no matter how much we both know I'll like it, I can't watch it until the Neurodivergence Department in my brain approves it. I don't know when that will be, and I don't have any more control over it than you do.
The centre do not be holdin up
writing tip:
if you push buttons on a keyboard, letters will appear on the screen. and with that power you can do anything
defending dabi online aint enough we need to commit arson
I am a changed person
SNOW AND DIRTY RAIN
Close your eyes. A lover is standing too close to focus on. Leave me blurry and fall toward me with your entire body. Lie under the covers, pretending to sleep, while Iām in the other room. Imagine my legs crossed, my hair combed, the shine of my boots in the slatted light. Iām thinking My plant, his chair, the ashtray that we bought together. Iām thinking This is where we live. When we were little we made houses out of cardboard boxes. We can do anything. Itās not because our hearts are large, theyāre not, itās what we struggle with. The attempt to say Come over. Bring your friends. Itās a potluck, Iām making pork chops, Iām making those long noodles you love so much. My dragonfly, my black-eyed fire, the knives in the kitchen are singing for blood, but we are at the crossroads, my little outlaw, and this is the map of my heart, the landscape after cruelty which is, of course, a garden, which is a tenderness, which is a room, a lover saying Hold me tight, itās getting cold. We have not touched the stars, nor are we forgiven, which brings us back to the heroās shoulders and a gentleness that comes, not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it. The lawn is drowned, the sky on fire, the gold light falling backward through the glass of every room. Iāll give you my heart to make a place for it to happen, evidence of a love that transcends hunger. Is that too much to expect? That I would name the stars for you? That I would take you there? The splash of my tongue melting you like a sugar cube? Weāve read the back of the book, we know whatās going to happen. The fields burned, the land destroyed, the lovers left broken in the brown dirt. And then itās gone. Makes you sad. All your friends are gone. Goodbye Goodbye. No more tears. I would like to meet you all in Heaven. But thereās a litany of dreams that happens somewhere in the middle. Moonlight spilling on the bathroom floor. A page of the book where we transcend the story of our lives, past the taco stands and record stores. Moonlight making crosses on your body, and me putting my mouth on every one. We have been very brave, we have wanted to know the worst, wanted the curtain to be lifted from our eyes. The dream going on with all of us in it. Penciling in the bighearted slob. Penciling in his outstretched arms. Our Father who art in Heaven. Our Father who art buried in the yard. Someone is digging your grave right now. Someone is drawing a bath to wash you clean, he said, so think of the wind, so happy, so warm. Itās a fairy tale, the story underneath the story, sliding down the polished halls, lightning here and gone. We make these ridiculous idols so we can pray to whatās behind them, but what happens after we get up the ladder? Do we simply stare at what is horrible and forgive it? Here is the river, and here is the box, and here are the monsters we put in the box to test our strength against. Here is the cake, and here is the fork, and hereās the desire to put it inside us, and then the question behind every question: What happens next? The way you slam your body into mine reminds me Iām alive, but monsters are always hungry, darling, and theyāre only a few steps behind you, finding the flaw, the poor weld, the place where we werenāt stitched up quite right, the place they could almost slip right through if the skin wasnāt trying to keep them out, to keep them here, on the other side of the theater where the curtain keeps rising. I crawled out the window and ran into the woods. I had to make up all the words myself. The way they taste, the way they sound in the air. I passed through the narrow gate, stumbled in, stumbled around for a while, and stumbled back out. I made this place for you. A place for you to love me. If this isnāt the kingdom then I donāt know what is. So how would you catalog it? Dawn in the fields? Snow and dirty rain? Light brought in in buckets? I was trying to describe the kingdom, but the letters kept smudging as I wrote them: the hunterās heart, the hunterās mouth, the trees and the trees and the spaces between the trees,
swimming in gold. The words frozen. The creatures frozen. The plum sauce leaking out of the bag. Explaining will get us nowhere. I was away, I donāt know where, lying on the floor, pretending I was dead. I wanted to hurt you but the victory is that I could not stomach it. We have swallowed him up, they said. Itās beautiful, it really is. I had a dream about you. We were in the gold room where everyone finally gets what they want. You said Tell me about your books, your visions made of flesh and light and I said This is the Moon. This is the Sun. Let me name the stars for you. Let me take you there. The splash of my tongue melting you like a sugar cubeā¦ We were in the gold room where everyone finally gets what they want, so I said What do you want, sweetheart? and you said Kiss me. Here I am leaving you clues. I am singing now while Rome burns. We are all just trying to be holy. My applejack, my silent night, just mash your lips against me. We are all going forward. None of us are going back.
nah man i cant come over tomorrow im gonna listen to songs and think about characters. yeah no its gonna be all day
girl help iām meeting all DSM criteria
sounds like a derry girls episode
Very christian grandma: "What you got there?"
Granddaughter holding her gf hand: "a protestant"
Absolutely cackling
āNo thatās an oil tank Iām not interestedā š
#Me when I see realistic plants in video games#BABE THEY DID YARROW COME LOOK#BABE THESE GRAPES ARE CORRECTLY TRELLISEDĀ ( @bonzicatgirl )
THIS IS WHY I MAKE REAL PLANTS IN THE GAME. FOR NERDS LIKE ME.
Same energy:
I can listen to somebody talk about their interests like this forever. Please please tell me what realistic plants you found in your game. please tell me about all the propane tanks you saw in your game.
steve buscemi in parting glances, 1986..
