he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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@peachyasteria
everyone shut the fuck up and listen. i love decadence, i love filth, i love perversion; i love depravity and deviance and hedonism. i love corruption, i love the obscene. i love debauchery, i love all things sordid, i love the thrill of scandal. i love reveling in being a sicko. it brings me closer to god
Don’t mind Soup, he’s just vibing to the tune of another Existential Tuesday
Cross stitch pattern I made inspired by this guy:
I mean, it’s yet another pattern I’ll never have time to stitch, but look at him, he’s vibing.
Oh and it’s actually Tuesday, so yay.
Source
Video of Tama
Follow Ultrafacts for more facts
The picture in the background of the second one
Tama is boss
THE TRAINS HAVE CARTOON TAMAS ON THEM
Sad update everyone, Tama recently passed away… An estimated 3,000 people, including railway officials, attended Tama the cat’s funeral on Sunday, days after she died of heart failure aged 16. [x]
For those who haven’t read articles about it, the local shrine elevated her to a god. She’s now the Eternal Stationmaster and patron god of the station.
Beautiful.
Now I’m crying thanks
and a new cat was hired right?
yep! her name is Nitama (essentially ”second tama” or “tama II”) and she served under Tama as an apprentice before being appointed her deputy
she works very hard
Everytime this crosses my dash, I reblog. It is the law.
I’m crying at 11pm over train cats
Nitama, already now a mature cat (born 2010), has a protege named Yontama (fourth Tama, b. 2016). There is no information available for either the physical befellment or tragic self-disgrace which has removed Santama from contention.
^Nitama majestic, and below with Yontama
Yontama.
a legacy
okay but actually what happened to santama (or sun-tama-tama, which is her name because it’s a pun on santama) was that she was basically sent to train for the position in okayama and they liked her so much they refused to send her back
“Sun-tama-tama” (a pun off of “Santama”, lit. “third Tama”) was a calico cat sent for training in Okayama. Sun-tama-tama was considered as a candidate for Tama’s successor, but the Okayama Public Relations representative who had been caring for Sun-tama-tama refused to give the cat up writing, “I will not let go of this child, she will stay in Okayama.” [25]
As of September 2018, Sun-tama-tama is working as the stationmaster in Naka-ku, Okayama and appears occasionally on Tama’s Twitter account.
Every time I see this post there’s new info and it gets better
You are only allowed to scroll pass this after you pay tribute to the great Tama Station masters.
The shrine of Tama Daimyōjin (Great gracious deity Tama), next to the Kishi station where she worked.
Nitama presenting her yearly offerings to Tama Daimyōjin on the anniversary of Tama’s Death, June 23 (The offerings are presented by the company president, as Nitama is a cat and thus can’t hold the offerings herself) (Not pictured, but also present, Yontama)
you cannot pass without reblogging guys. i’m sorry, i don’t make the rules.
You can’t not reblog a goddess. It’s just what’s so. :)
So, fun fact- the manga Noragami has an arc where the main character, Yato (a minor kami/God that is down on his luck but trying to make it big time) goes to a council/conference for all the Gods in Japan.
And they are announcing the winner of the “up and coming god” award, and of course, Yato thinks it’s him.
But no-
ITS TAMA!
Always reblogging this.
Pieces of Viking pottery with traces of cat and dog paws, seen at the Musée de Normandie in Caen Castle
“So back in the day pets already ruined their owner’s artwork.” - My sis who took the photo
“ruined”? made better
It’s very humanizing to imagine some poor potter in the past screaming “nnnnooooooo bad kitty” somewhere in Scandinavia
If it was ruined, the artisan wouldn’t have baked it.
That’s… that’s a delightful point you just made.
This person chose to bake and keep their cat’s artistic contribution.
i was in spain once and there was a building with a tile that had been laid down in roman times: it had a dog’s paw print. and the thing was that after the dog did that print, the wet tile was dried, and then fired, and then shipped, and then laid, and for two thousand years every person who encountered that tile thought ‘aw! paw print!’ and kept it. this vast agreement by thousands of people over all these centuries, in memory of a dog only one of us could have met.
i loved that tile.
Every comment.
As anyone who has worked with wet clay knows, these pawprints could be removed with a dab more clay and a stroke of one hand.
That they weren’t, says all that needs said.
The hand was too busy stroking something furry that purred or wagged its tail.
humans of new york, doctor who “the end of the world”, kurt vonnegut, carl sagan, lord huron, charles piazzi smyth “the great comet of 1843″, outer wilds
Everyone goes through their own revolution, we just call it growth.
- This Anatomy of Meloncholy #1 // L.H.Z
each night in December is so uniquely lonely
“How can we distinguish what is biologically determined from what people merely try to justify through biological myths? A good rule of thumb is ‘Biology enables, culture forbids.’ Biology is willing to tolerate a very wide spectrum of possibilities. It’s culture that obliges people to realise some possibilities while forbidding others. Biology enables women to have children – some cultures oblige women to realise this possibility. Biology enables men to enjoy sex with one another – some cultures forbid them to realise this possibility. Culture tends to argue that it forbids only that which is unnatural. But from a biological perspective, nothing is unnatural. Whatever is possible is by definition also natural. A truly unnatural behaviour, one that goes against the laws of nature, simply cannot exist, so it would need no prohibition. No culture has ever bothered to forbid men to photosynthesise, women to run faster than the speed of light, or negatively charged electrons to be attracted to each other. In truth, our concepts ‘natural’ and unnatural’ are taken not from biology, but from Christian theology. The theological meaning of ‘natural’ is ‘in accordance with the intentions of the God who created nature’. Christian theologians argued that God created the human body, intending each limb and organ to serve a particular purpose. If we use our limbs and organs for the purpose envisioned by God, then it is a natural activity. To use them differently than God intends is unnatural. But evolution has no purpose. Organs have not evolved with a purpose, and the way they are used is in constant flux. There is not a single organ in the human body that only does the job its prototype did when it first appeared hundreds of millions of years ago. Organs evolve to perform a particular function, but once they exist, they can be adapted for other usages as well. Mouths, for example, appeared because the earliest multicellular organisms needed a way to take nutrients into their bodies. We still use our mouths for that purpose, but we also use them to kiss, speak and, if we are Rambo, to pull the pins out of hand grenades. Are any of these uses unnatural simply because our worm-like ancestors 600 million years ago didn’t do those things with their mouths?”
— Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind (Harari, Yuval Noah)
“I love being horribly straightforward. I love sending reckless text messages (because how reckless can a form of digitized communication be?) and telling people I love them and telling people they are absolutely magical humans and I cannot believe they really exist. I love saying, Kiss me harder, and You’re a good person, and, You brighten my day. I live my life as straight-forward as possible. Because one day, I might get hit by a bus. Maybe it’s weird. Maybe it’s scary. Maybe it seems downright impossible to just be—to just let people know you want them, need them, feel like, in this very moment, you will die if you do not see them, hold them, touch them in some way whether its your feet on their thighs on the couch or your tongue in their mouth or your heart in their hands. But there is nothing more beautiful than being desperate. And there is nothing more risky than pretending not to care. We are young and we are human and we are beautiful and we are not as in control as we think we are. We never know who needs us back. We never know the magic that can arise between ourselves and other humans. We never know when the bus is coming.”
— Rachel C. Lewis, Tell The People You Love That You Love Them. (via thequotejournals)
Found that How To Disappear Online post again, linking it here for anyone who might need it or know someone who needs it. This is very good information for people trying to escape abusers or stalkers, or who simply do not want to be found.
so many songs to listen to. so many books to read. so many things to watch. so much stuff to write. i think i will sit here and decompose
We stan!!!!
chaotic good
There’s a happy ending to, because the robbery was unsuccessful, the couple ended up getting the money Eden needed from a movie inspired by em! Also John only had to serve part of his sentence. Check out their wedding photos btw they’re beautiful.
reblogging because I’ve seen this post a thousand times and I’ve never seen the happy ending!!
the fact that time passes and things change and people leave and you can only go back to a place physically and you will never be 14 15 16 again………….. i don’t understand how we are meant to endure that
I know it sounds fake but you really do have a lot of silent lovers on this planet who look at you and wish they had your smile or your hair color or your humor or your intellect or your intentions or your heart, your manners, your eyes, your ease, even just you. People who are too shy to tell you what they admire about you or what they wish for you or who they see themselves becoming bc of you & they’re too shy to tell you. even tho it isn’t verbalized, the universe has still heard and the universe has loved you for helping out on its creations. You’re that person. You’re you.
How do you fall back in love with life?
clean your room. clean space, uncluttered space, space that doesn’t have miasma clinging to it can work wonders. clean the dishes. sweep. take out the trash. peel the clothes off the floor and wash them, and then actually fold/hang them. take a long shower. scrub behind your knees. brush your teeth. (this can be utterly exhausting, but try to get it done in a day, if you can. the end result is worth it.)
pull out your notebook. it doesn’t need to be a new notebook, but preferably one that you don’t usually write in, or that you haven’t touched in a while. fuck moleskins. the yellow legal pad will work fine. sit in your room, or in the park, or in the library, and write a list. count clouds. describe all the colors that you see, and note patterns that arise. sketch the cracks in the walls. note the shape light makes when it enters a space. talk about what the air tastes like, smells like. what sounds are there? even the white nose, break that down: air planes, fans, cicadas, anything. remind yourself that you are sitting in the middle of a space brimming with detail. remind yourself that you are not in nothingness and emptiness. your world is fathomless. it has potential.
drink cold water and try to eat something that isn’t processed. it does not need to be fancy. buy yourself an apple with the change between your couch cushions. eat it outside. if you’re someone who walks, walk somewhere afterwards, just to stretch your legs. take your fucking meds. remember that its a good thing that you are inside your body. your body is a fantastic and endlessly intricate machine, and even though society has smacked a bunch of poisonous ideas on it, that doesn’t change its inherent worth and splendor. take care of it.
read a novel. underline your favorite lines, and write phrases that twist your heart inside your chest on the back of your hand with an ink pen. read a novel like it’s poetry. read poetry, something decadent but unpretentious. watch a movie you haven’t seen before. if there are free art galleries near you, walk through one. take your time. let yourself bask. if there are patterns in what makes your soul ache, write those patterns down – marbles arches or soot crumbling bricks or dandelions or descriptions of dresses or whatever it is, write them down.
your chosen family is important. remember, they picked you as much as you picked them. the love has no obligation. it is given freely and it is given from a place of compassion. you are not a burden. if you need to breathe, take a minute by yourself and just exist, but remember to go back to your people. when they need you, listen and be gracious. always be gracious. the universe sometimes remembers things like that.
listen to new music. link jump on youtube or related artist jump on spotify or ask the chap beside you in the cafe what their favorite band is, and listen to that. listen to something that you don’t usually listen to. we tend to tie up a lot of memory with music. we are falling in love again. the soundtrack needs to be specific to that.
allow yourself to indulge in romantics. press flowers in old books. play movies with subtitles and mouth the words. dance in your room. wear something that makes you feel good, even if you wouldn’t wear it in public. write your chosen family letters, even if you hand deliver them. write poetry, even awful poetry. revel in its awfulness. eat dark chocolate and when your chosen family want to go out, try to go out with them sometimes, even if its just to the market.
