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titsay

Kiana Khansmith
d e v o n
todays bird
almost home
Peter Solarz
i don't do bad sauce passes

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pixel skylines
noise dept.
hello vonnie
Xuebing Du
Three Goblin Art
NASA
Monterey Bay Aquarium

izzy's playlists!

Origami Around
sheepfilms
No title available
dirt enthusiast

seen from Saudi Arabia

seen from Türkiye
seen from Türkiye

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from India

seen from Netherlands

seen from Sweden

seen from Saudi Arabia

seen from Türkiye

seen from Germany

seen from Saudi Arabia

seen from United States
seen from Algeria
seen from United States
seen from Algeria
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
@myteddyna19
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I love tumblr. I love that tumblr is the best social media site of 2021.
Every other site has spent the last decade perfecting the art of targeted ads. I am a wallet of flesh and blood which must be stripped bare and profiled and picked apart for the maximally efficient way to squeeze profit from my presence. Every other site will fold and morph itself to a shape of my liking - like a fairy tale trickster stealing memories and taking their mold - to lull me into compliance and loosen my coin purse.
Facebook sees me searching fitness equipment and injects my timeline with athletic wear ads. Reddit profiles the subreddits I follow and eagerly promotes a new coding bootcamp or cloud service at every turn. Google overhears me lamenting over my moving to-do list on voice call and fills in my “how much to tip movers” query before I’ve gotten the third word typed out.
Tumblr never even tried.
They could have. The information is there. The basic infrastructure, presumably, exists. Tumblr can recommend me tags based on tags I follow, blogs based on blogs I follow, even posts that for one reason or another may strike my fancy. Tumblr could be - SHOULD be - funneling this framework into advertising, as the only means that free-to-use social media platforms can turn a profit in our capitalistic hellscape.
They just don’t.
Today I saw an ad for treating Hyperhidrosis - a condition, I think, in which a person sweats too much - and I saw it twice, four posts apart, and it is so incredibly benignly impersonally ineptly untargeted toward me compared to all other pinpoint-aimed advertising that I’m endeared to it. Tumblr knows NOTHING about me. 8 years, 51,000 likes, and tumblr has not learned a THING about me.
Advertisements for a mattress? Shitty mobile game ads that don’t make even the slightest pretense at being anything other than a candy crush rip-off? Choose-your-own adventure games either about Royal Espionage or Choosing The Wrong Dress For Your Date with ZERO in-between.
And then this. This here. The culmination, the crown-jewel of tumblr’s nihilistic non-compliance with the state of social media advertising. Any pretense of capitalistic exchange is abandoned at the gas station by the side of the road. This is not a company. This is not a product. This is not anything that fulfills the contract of consumer and seller.
THIS. THIS IS WHAT TUMBLR HAS TO OFFER INSTEAD.
“Pour vinegar on your bread, fuck you.”
“Put it in the garbage, fuck you.”
“Your wife says you’re a fucking dumbass, fuck you.”
That’s it. That’s the advertisement. You vinegar-breadless cuck. You virgin extraordinaire bereft of bread and garbage can. I am fucking your wife right now in our vinegar-soaked motel bed. She puffs a cigarette which I pulled from the trashcan and we both laugh heartily at her recounts of your immasculine ineptitude. I don’t want your money. I don’t want anything from you. Fuck you.
Amazing. Amazing. What a state of things to ring in 2021. What a great platform we all collectively choose to be on.
i can’t believe i haven’t seen karkat junior on tumblr yet
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unknown.
“Please be patient with me. Sometimes when I’m quiet it’s because I need to figure myself out. It’s not because I don’t want to talk. Sometimes there are no words for my thoughts.”
— Kamla Bolanos
fuck all romances except whatever that freewheeling bisexual warlock and his shy mortal boyfriend with eyes the precise color of his magic had going on
Martha Gellhorn, Selected Letters
if you're on trial for a nondescript crime and the character in your pfp is your lawyer, is your ass going to jail?
Im getting set down for sure.. my lawyer is hiding and sneaking peeks through a peep hole
best thing about Ianthe is that the bone arm is so fucking stupid. it doesn’t make any sense. it sounds cool in theory but in reality having her entire right arm reduced to only skinny little bones probably just make her look off-balance and weird. the joint that connects to the shoulder is either surrounded by open exposed meat or has had skin manually grown over it so that her upper arm looks like a corn dog. I assume lyctorhood + bone magic means that her body can do whatever it wants but also how is an arm without muscle going to have any strength behind it. she’s one unlucky landing away from snapping clean through the gold plating and exploding her rapier arm into a dozen useless shards. Yes she can just regenerate it but why go through the effort. Why is she only making herself a Fat Glove on an as-needed basis she is a flesh magician just put the meat back on it. except she never will because it’s her daily reminder of the closest she ever got to having sex with harrow
This
there is something so darkly comical about tumblr potentially outliving twitter
tumblr, which is held together with duct tape and madness, run by three raccoons in blood stained Yahoo! hats and a handful of crabs, its only discernible source of income the sale of shoelaces from an inside joke so inside no one knows the original source anymore and fake blue checkmarks... that website still lives on
truly the cockroach of social media and I love it for that
And Day Brought Back My Night
It was so simple: you came back to me And I was happy. Nothing seemed to matter But that. That you had gone away from me And lived for days with him—it didn’t matter. That I had been left to care for our old dog And house alone—couldn’t have mattered less! On all this, you and I and our happy dog Agreed. We slept. The world was worriless. I woke in the morning, brimming with old joys Till the fact-checker showed up, late, for work And started in: Item: it’s years, not days. Item: you had no dog. Item: she isn’t back, In fact, she just remarried. And oh yes, item: you Left her, remember? I did? I did. (I do.)
-Geoffrey Brock
1. Just - Radiohead / 2. A Primer for the Small Weird Loves - Richard Siken / 3. The Hangover - Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec / 4. A House in Nebraska - Ethel Cain / 5. After the Misdeed - Jean Beraud / 6. Abject Permanence - Larissa Pham / 7. You Know I’m No Good - Amy Winehouse
This in hagged tears this damn this
The Castle by Franz Kafka
harrow casually lying thru her teeth her whole life every time she repeats the Ninth's prayer
OP how dare you keep this in the tags
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