Everything used to be 20 dollars and now that I finally have 20 dollars everything is now 200 dollars
Alskjdjdhd I hate it here
Misplaced Lens Cap
Xuebing Du
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
One Nice Bug Per Day
Keni
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
NASA
wallacepolsom
Today's Document
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
noise dept.

roma★

JBB: An Artblog!
will byers stan first human second
art blog(derogatory)
No title available
DEAR READER

JVL
No title available
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
seen from Singapore

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seen from Pakistan
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@owwmyeye
Everything used to be 20 dollars and now that I finally have 20 dollars everything is now 200 dollars
Alskjdjdhd I hate it here
LOOK HOW MANY FLYERS HAVE BEEN STUck on tHIS LAMPOST?? germans are crazy
there is no lamp post its pure flyer
You could carbon date this to the ice age
peeling back layers until I reveal martin luther’s 95 theses
im gonna fuck it
And here we have the 4 most common types of tumblr users in their natural habitat
World Heritage Post
i am begging this brown bear sanctuary to rethink their phrasing
outta my way, straight boy
the bears got him
dont make me cry at 1am
supermarkets should have benches
everywhere should have benches
this please. I realized when I went off to university and had to walk downhill to get groceries. I'd get so tired but the only spot to sit was on people's steps which I always felt weird doing. I literally looked up laws to check if I could just buy my own bench and plop it somewhere in the route.
.
we're not going to make it
we will make it
it'll take too long to rebuild ourselves
we will make it
but what if we don't wake up in the morning
we will make it
i don't see a future with me in it
we will make it
we'll give up long before then
we will make it
im scared
i love you. we will make it
The votes on this post. Oh. A poem in poll form, interactive art, the fact we can see how the other people reading it felt. im. this is really good.
Joyce Carol Oates absolutely eviscerating Musk.
“The poorest persons on twitter may have access to more beauty and meaning in life than the ‘most wealthy person in the world.’”
This being his response is wild to me. Cuz like. He has access to everything. Why does he care if some stranger said his posts suck? Got everything but nothing.
please god watch this right now
This took so many turns and I expected none of them
So true
I-
Guess you're not wrong?? Not the direction I expected lmao.
oh? you’re cold?
well your dragon has a solution for that
yknow this post was supposed to be about vore but this interpretation is honestly way fucking funnier
"spam like = blocked" if you spam like me i am going to cast 1000 protection spells on you so nothing bad happens to you ever
If someone likes my blog enough to scroll through all my posts and reblog a bunch, I'm happy.
put me on a leash take me for a walk (NONSEXUAL, I'M A LITTLE ANIMAL)
unless you like to FUCK little animals...
this is the worst vocal stim of my life and im not even joking. the urge to go “unless you like to FUCK little animals” is in my head rent free
Ayoo??
there's probably a better way of wording the last part but like come on it doesn't matter if we're all the same to fascists
Curious Polar bear (Ursus maritimus) standing upright and looking through porthole into the kitchen of arctic expedition ship M/S Stockholm in Svalbard, Spitsbergen, Norway by Andy Rouse
Hahaha that’s great. By the way, this is the picture of him with his head in.
me in five years when i still don’t have my life together:
It's been 5 years.
Oh god it's been 5 year. It's still 3 years ago in my head. The year after covid, I went back to school for a bachelor's so I could get out of retail. I graduated and now I Doordash cuz I'm overqualified for low end work and underqualified for my field 🧍♀️ so glad to make less money with every new job I get.
thinking about creatures.
look at this thing
Tumblr users will see some kind of animal or beast and just slam the reblog button
That is a banded linsang.
They sit very politely.
Oooooo such a pretty kitty rat ✨️life has horrors but also this thing so it balances out
cemeteries aren’t creepy they’re actually devoted to memory and rest and love and humanity
Some of my favorite things from when I worked landscaping at a small town cemetery:
The things that got left on graves. 6-packs of beer, little boxes of chocolates or cookies, the occasional large Tim Hortons double double. My favorite was the one grave that on a Monday would always have a 6-pack with one can missing. Someone visited regularly and had a drink while they were there.
The veterans section, and how it was almost empty. Not that there weren’t veterans buried in the cemetery; there were tons, but they were buried beside their wives in family plots. Most of these guys went away for WW2, survived, came home, and were buried decades later, with people they loved, the rank carved on their headstone less important than the names of the children and grandchildren who remember them.
The way standing headstones make you take the time to trim the weeds around them every time you cut the grass, and give you the chance to slow down and read the inscriptions. There was probably a time I knew every name there.
The small metal markers in the back rows, only labeled with numbers. They took the place of old wooden crosses when the town was a little farming village. Somewhere in the museum they probably have a record of who was buried under each, but I never saw it.
The big plastic flower wreath (the kind people decorate wedding cars with) that spelled “MOM”. She was young, and her grave was so new she didn’t have a headstone yet. She had 5 little kids, and they’d made it for her.
The stones lined up by the landscaping shed, carved with their inscriptions and waiting for their graves to settle so we could place them. The little printed or hand-decorated paper signs loved ones taped to the temporary plaques they would replace.
The guerrilla wildflowers planted around grave markers. We weren’t supposed to leave them when we cut the grass, but we tried to anyway.
Walking through the tiny local museum and putting faces and items to the names I knew from grave markers. Esme and her room full of quilts and knitting. The old veterans who lived to their 80s and 90s, fresh-faced in pressed new uniforms before they left for the war more than half a century ago. Pictures of young couples grinning in front of houses I recognised from my recycling pickup rounds, whose names I recognised from their shared plots.
The signs of life among the dead: lawn chair prints in the grass, kid’s snack wrappers that didn’t quite make it into the trash, elastic bands from bouquets, a place where someone sat cross-legged in the grass long enough to leave an imprint, a family’s worth of footprints in the muddy roadway.
Cemeteries may house the dead, but they exist for the living, and they’re a fascinating place where life and death exist side by side. There’s something really cool about a place where the dead are remembered and the living feel less alone because of it.