ongoing existential crisis

30 :: Pan :: she/they ASD :: Chronic Illness :: INFJ :: 962

[marisatomay]

This Pride I hope that all of you never ever forget that no amount of sanitizing your sex life or sanding down of your LGBT edges will make bigots accept you. So, don’t debase yourself by capitulating an inch to them, especially in ways that throw your fellow community members under the bus.

[marisatomay]

You are a degenerate faggot in the eyes of bigots whether you’re wearing a nice button down and slacks with combed hair or leather daddy kink gear. So stand with the freaks who will stand with you until the end—long after the bigots have abandoned you despite your claims to be “one of the good ones.”

[thoughtportal]

[hmantegazzi]

Please be coherent about this and recognise that what this headline means is:

Poor and marginalised people are being kicked out of the houses they worked decades to secure, just at the time in their lives when they are the most vulnerable

And the ones kicking them out aren't of a specific age either. Soulless assholes come in every generation, and the ones born with too much money are the worst of the lot. Right now, a guy your age is authorising an eviction against someone the age of your grandma. Pop culture generations cannot explain that.

[naamahdarling]

This.

[hjarta-deactivated20260124]

literally not surprised in the slightest

[hjarta-deactivated20260124]

yes he did

[vntg-aes]

[sunshinetomorrow]

my grubhub being delivered by a wizard or some sort of apostle

[nikswonderland]

the beauty of fall —

[195195119511951-deactivated2021]

In the first poetry workshop I ever took my professor said we could write about anything we wanted except for two things: our grandparents and our dogs. She said she had never read a good poem about a dog. I could only remember ever reading one poem about a dog before that point—a poem by Pablo Neruda, from which I only remembered the lines “We walked together on the shores of the sea/ In the lonely winter of Isla Negra.” Four years later I wrote a poem about how when I was a little girl I secretly baptized my dog in the bathtub because I was afraid she wouldn’t get into heaven. “Is this a good poem?” I wondered. The second poetry workshop, our professor made us put a bird in each one of our poems. I thought this was unbelievably stupid. This professor also hated when we wrote about hearts, she said no poet had ever written a good poem in which they mentioned a heart. I started collecting poems about hearts, first to spite her, but then because it became a habit I couldn’t break. The workshop after that, our professor would tell us the same story over and over about how his son had died during a blizzard. He would cry in front of us. He never told us we couldn’t write about anything, but I wrote a lot of poems about snow. At the end of the year he called me into his office and said, “looking at you, one wouldn’t think you’d be a very good writer” and I could feel all the pity inside of me curdling like milk. The fourth poetry workshop I ever took my professor made it clear that poets should not try to engage with popular culture. I noticed that the only poets he assigned were men. I wrote a poem about that scene in Grease 2 where a boy takes his girlfriend to a fallout shelter and tries to get her to have sex with him by tricking her into believing that nuclear war had begun. It was the first poem I ever published. The fifth poetry workshop I ever took our professor railed against the word blood. She thought that no poem should ever have the word “blood” in it, they were bloody enough already. She returned a draft of my poem with the word blood crossed out so hard the paper had torn. When I started teaching poetry workshops I promised myself I would never give my students any rules about what could or couldn’t be in their poems. They all wrote about basketball. I used to tally these poems when I’d go through the stack I had collected at the end of each class. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 poems about basketball. This was Indiana. Eventually I couldn’t take it anymore. I told the class, “for the next assignment no one can write about basketball, please for the love of god choose another topic. Challenge yourselves.” Next time I collected their poems there was one student who had turned in another poem about basketball. I don’t know if he had been absent on the day I told them to choose another topic or if he had just done it to spite me. It’s the only student poem I can still really remember. At the time I wrote down the last lines of that poem in a notebook. “He threw the basketball and it came towards me like the sun”

[envelopandkissme]

this fucks

[lousydrawingsforgoodpeople]

[5weekdays]

this place has a brunch menu where everything’s named after this summer’s movies. so you got stuff like “indiana jones and the mango french toast of destiny” or my favorite:

[supermodelcats]

[ouchiemyspine]

me, doing something: ouchie yeouch this quite hurts to do let's stop . i need to remember to avoid doing that

me, 30 minutes later, doing the exact same thing: ouchie yeouch this quite hurts to do let's stop . i need to remember to avoid doing that

me, 30 minutes later, doing you will never guess what:

[tangledbea]

My sister just finished putting together her new Lego castle.

I helped.

[ruinedchildhood]

how nolan intended it

[shencomix]

This comic is for my friend's book, Feelings by Mr. Lovenstein! Go check it out and in fact give money to it to make it grow big

[somecutething]

Dolphins doing cartwheels with an aquarium guest.

(via Ant.Giovanni)

[luidilovins]

I'm loving this new trend of people going to zoos and participating in animal enrichment. We use to observe large exotic animals for our entertainment, but the fact is that we are now trying to make ourselves equally as entertaining for them. It's interactive, completely parpicipatory and I would argue that eventually someone's gonna come up with something new enough that it expland ethologists understanding about how some animals think, problem solve, communicate and feel and I think its fantastic.

[urbanfantasyinspiration]

Human: play?

Aquatic creature from an entirely different branch of the animal tree: play!

[urbanfantasyinspiration]

[whitesunlars]

my one (1) complaint about the barbie movie is that they showed the only horses in Barbieland being horse head on stick toys when really there should have been a representation of the direct doll to horse girl pipeline of barbie pegasus. 

i’m not saying a cgi horse. i’m saying a giant plastic barbie pegasus.