aight.
dirt enthusiast
Monterey Bay Aquarium

#extradirty
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TVSTRANGERTHINGS
DEAR READER
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Mike Driver
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

ellievsbear
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
🪼

@theartofmadeline

PR's Tumblrdome
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
taylor price

shark vs the universe
AnasAbdin
Misplaced Lens Cap
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

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@nic-thelocalcryptid
aight.
i am by no means a comic creator, nor do i know if this worked lmao. concept: Sasquatch has to save stupid hikers.
hares are herbivorous for our own safety. smaller and without thumbs to protect us. hares are built of something ancient and incomprehensible, far from this world, this notion of time. maybe they were different before, when the sky was brighter. but not now, their closest display of power being their leap; their two-legged stance alone in a moonlit meadow. and their eyes.
wild. untamed.
the truest part of their belying forms. when one stares into them, it is never sought, rather stumbled upon in that same meadow. alone, cold, but never afraid. the hare is waiting there, stolid. you never see its eyes blink.
you are filled with tacit knowledge. bursts of feelings you have never felt. nobody has ever felt; they have no names. visions bleed into your eyes of what you can only assume are colours; not red, or blue, or yellow, or emptiness. you’ve never seen them before and they only give more of this unmarked, unwavering consciousness. it eats you and feeds you all at once. lives never lived, songs never sung.
the colours flow away now, the visions and sounds implode until all thats left is the tepid flavour of cheap sherbet on your tongue, and the deafening gaze of the hare. its equanimity remains, but something in you does not. you are no longer the same as you once were. the hare falls back to all four and trods away until it is nothing more than a tenuous dot in your memory.
you walk back to your car.
A friend found in the most unusual places! the travellers said they'd be out here, listening to the ancient tales of the sands.
wolves howl not to the moon, but to the one trapped amongst the stars.
no longer docile. if you see me? run
slip in a hawaiian shirt, slide on some crocs and tumble directly into the mcdonald’s M sign, ceasing to exist