Bread brain hotel head
Acrylic, water pastel, pencil
14x15″ panel
KAZLAND - 2017
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
i don't do bad sauce passes
Xuebing Du
Jules of Nature
cherry valley forever

Love Begins

Janaina Medeiros
tumblr dot com
Misplaced Lens Cap

JVL
art blog(derogatory)
noise dept.

izzy's playlists!
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d e v o n
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Game of Thrones Daily

Kiana Khansmith

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@night---vale
Bread brain hotel head
Acrylic, water pastel, pencil
14x15″ panel
KAZLAND - 2017
*points to literally anything remotely atrocious* Cecil Palmer would wear that
“this doesn’t concern you Robert please close the door”
this is your new Messiah the glow cat
all hail the glow cat
The guy in front of me was dragged out kicking and screaming
Library Gothic
“Do you have that book?” a patron asks. You reply, “I’m sorry, could you be more specific?” “The book,” is the only answer you get. This happens with three more patrons today. “I’m sorry,” you say to them all, “I don’t know what book you’re talking about.” The book. The book. The Book. Should you know The Book? Should you have The Book?
An elderly couple comes in every morning for the newspaper. Nobody remembers a time that they didn’t. They have always been elderly. There’s a faint foul smell in the library when they’re in.
There is a branch on the system map that you’ve never heard anyone talk about. You’ve never seen books with their branch sticker come in and you’ve never sent books to them. You asked a co-worker about it once, but they just smiled and asked how much shelf reading you got done that day. You tried to find it once, but kept finding yourself in the same grocery store parking lot over and over.
You weed for hours. There are no fewer books on the shelves. You weed for days. There is still no room for the new books that have come in. You weed for months. You feel like you’ve withdrawn a lot of these books already. You know you threw this stained, tattered, moldy copy of Bleak House in recycling a while ago. You weed for years. You weed forever.
(You never weed books on witchcraft. In fact, you put ten brand new ones on the shelf yesterday. They have already disappeared.)
One day the elderly couple doesn’t come in. The library has a much fouler smell that usual during the time they’re regularly in.
You go through a box of donations and at the very bottom you find a copy of Ramona Quimby, Age 8. You loved that book as a child, and it looks like the same edition. You open it to check the publishing date and there is your name and childhood phone number written in purple crayola marker in your 8-year-old self’s handwriting. You did not grow up around here. Your family is not close.
You go through a box of donations and at the very bottom you find a book with a photo used as a bookmark. You take it out to let the patron know they left it in there next time they come in. The photo is of a child at the beach and you would swear that it was a picture of you, but you have no memory of that swimsuit and no memory of that beach. The patron does not return.
You go through a box of donations and at the very bottom you find a book written in a language you can’t identify. You pass it around to your coworkers, and none of them know either. You upload a picture of the cover to reverse google image search and there are no matches. You open the book to double check for copyright information and you don’t know how you missed it until now but there is your your name and childhood phone number written in purple crayola marker in your 8-year-old self’s handwriting.
“Do you have that book?” a patron asks. You reply, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what book you’re talking about,” even though this time you get the nagging feeling that you do.
This is terrifying I love it
Signs as parts of the sky..
Clouds: Leo, Pisces, Taurus, libra
Stars: Gemini, Aries, Cancer, Aquarius
The void: Sagittarius, Virgo, Capricorn, Scorpio
shapeshifting is the best super power because you can have any haircut any time you want, you can turn into a hotter version of yourself, you can turn into a dragon, you can turn into a robot, you can turn into a shambling mound of abstract shapes and sulk outside your estranged father’s house at night while chanting ominously about his sins,
why do stores always say ‘gifts for her’??? who is she? why are millions of americans being encouraged to buy gifts for this entity? someone explain
we must appease Her
night vale is full of thought provoking humour and beautifully inspirational monologues but “subway? more like wowza” will always be one of the best things it’s ever come up with
it’s right at the top of the list with “what’s an egg” and “i never knew school cleaning appliances were so strong”
“Mountains? More like nothings"
“Nice try, giant worms.”
“And I was like, whatever, rich guy!”
SORRY BUT YOUR PASSWORD MUST CONTAIN ONE NUMBER, ONE CAPITAL LETTER, THE COW AS WHITE AS MILK, THE CAPE AS RED AS BLOOD, THE HAIR AS YELLOW AS CORN, AND THE SLIPPER AS PURE AS GOLD
zodiac signs // wtnv tweets
Aries: If only you could see the world as it really is! It is beautiful and on fire and awful.
Taurus: The best way to stay in shape is a skeleton. Skin helps too. Without those you wouldn't have any shape at all.
Gemini: It's really a lack of imagination that makes children check under the bed. Like couldn't the monsters be floating invisibly just above you?
Cancer: When a person dies and no one will miss them, the mourning is assigned to a random person. This is why you sometimes just feel sad.
Leo: Last Christmas I gave you my heart. The very next day you were still quite shaken over the gory and incomprehensible gesture. How rude.
Virgo: Can you keep a secret? How about a paper bag that's slowly dripping blood? Can you keep that? Like in a closet or something?
Libra: Believe in yourself. You are an ancient, absent god, discussed only rarely by literary scholars. So if you don't believe, no one will.
Scorpio: Follow your heart! (It's easy to track because it crawls slowly and leaves a noticeable trail.)
Sagittarius: Money doesn't grow on trees, human organs and limbs do. at least on that one tree they do. It's a really weird tree. Let's get out of here.
Capricorn: Live each day like yesterday was your last. (Lying down, quietly decomposing, etc.)
Aquarius: 90% of your body is water. 6% is delusion. 4% is lies.
Pisces: The last thing I want to do is hurt you. And after that, the to-do list is complete and I can go home and watch TV.
say you’re an angel cast down from heaven.
(not a fallen angel, who chose to abandon their post and ally themselves with lucifer, or a corrupted human soul, which is a different animal altogether, but an angel who was called before the tribunal and found guilty. Dishonorable discharge. And maybe you wished you’d jumped, instead of being pushed, but the sentence is handed down anyway–)
…and then you’re just human. Sort of. Because the thing is, they can’t turn an angel into a human–you aren’t water, humanity isn’t wine. The best they can do is strip you of your wings and spirit and teeth and surety, and reassemble you smaller, blind, with poison in your joints. They best they can do is make you into a uncertain fleshy thing, hollow on the inside where a soul should go. Neither human nor angel and they were being merciful, you see. Better a thing than unmade.
but your body is new, fresh out of the box, and it doesn’t know how to be in the world any more than you do. You find yourself vomiting up food because your stomach doesn’t understand what digestion is; you wear sweaters in mid-July because your blood stubbornly refuses to go above room temperature. You have shadows like bruises beneath your eyes.
you smell wrong. When you pass, animals cower as before a storm.
(some nights, you dream–you were allowed to keep your memories, in stunning technicolor detail, but some of the parts that don’t fit in the human brain have gone blurry around the edges, metaphorical and soft-focus. You can’t remember the certain bits of string theory you need to get home, for example, or what ultraviolet looked like. When someone says, wings, you think of feathers and updrafts and that’s not right, it’s not right, but you can’t remember why)
you spent that first day in a church, trying to plead with your father to reverse the ruling. You have never known such profound silence as greeted you there, and it shakes you to your (new, runny) marrow. it will be a year before you dare to shout into the abyss again.
(no wonder humanity spent so much time looking up, looking out, looking at each other. How lonely, to be shut up all alone in your skull)
but you live in the world because there is no other choice. (that is very human too, you learn.) You tend the garden of an old woman, who makes you soup from a can and dry sandwiches, and rubs your back when you vomit them up again. She lets you wear her sweaters, smelling of lanolin and mothballs, and you are cold together, old together. You tell her, I used to be an angel, and she pats your hand.
how are you with hostas? she asks.
(it did not occur to you to lie to her. that was very angelic of you.)
You saw Sodom leveled to ash and salted earth, and she was there during the Harlem Riots of ‘64, which, she assures you, looked much the same. what’s the secret of life? she asks once, humor dancing in her dark eyes.
I don’t know, you tell her, honest in this too. I only just started mine.
Summer body wishlist: - six wings - a million eyes - constantly on fire - ability to scream forever
The greatest tragedy of the decade was Welcome to Night Vale finally getting the massive recognition it deserved after a year on the air and all of its new fans collectively took its incredibly unique, formless, openly gay main character who has NO CANONICAL APPEARANCE and therefore could take ANY FORM DESIRED BY THE FAN and decided that the best physical representation of him would be a skinny white guy in a suit with tattoos and tentacles??
Like there was unlimited potential there. Endless possibilities. u could have gone with anything. Anything
Summer body wishlist: - six wings - a million eyes - constantly on fire - ability to scream forever