mimi

she/her/it im just a little guyyyy, i draw things sometimesss 

[hyrude]

is the world really such a terrible place? yesterday i asked if oat milk was extra and the barista said yes so i said ok just regular milk then and when she gave me my chai latte she whispered “i used oat milk ;)” doesnt that make u want to live another day?

[hyrude]

here is my life philosophy: next week there might be someone ahead of you in line at the store who’s short a quarter and you have a quarter and you can give it to them. if you weren’t there, they’d have to put something back. the week after that you could be getting lunch and the waiter might ask if you want some pancakes someone else ordered and never picked up. you could find someone’s lost cat. you could watch someone’s bag while they go to the restroom. there are so many ways you are going to touch other people’s lives and they are going to touch yours and there’s no way to know when it’s going to happen. so you have to keep living!!! i wouldn’t want to die knowing that tomorrow the barista will give me free oat milk just to be nice. 

[elaninrecovery]

When I was 11 years old - we went to Sea World for my birthday. This was to avoid the realization I had no friends, and no one to come to a birthday party and probably because someone gave my mother free tickets at work. It was kinda a shitty day despite being at a theme park full of cute animals. There was a new roller coaster there that had just opened so we decided to go on. I was nervous. I’d never been on a roller coaster.

A group of 6 college kids were ahead of us in line and started chatting with me. Full on just having a fun conversation with someone literally going through the beginning of a very awkward middle school period. I was so shocked they wanted to talk to me. I think my mom mentioned it was my birthday. They were very nice about it. When we got on the ride they told us to go ahead of them so we could sit at the front of the car since it held 8 people.

Now the ride (called Journey to Atlantis - I believe it is sadly no longer there) started with a slow ride of beautiful visuals of dolphins and oceans and computerized images of this imaginary Atlantis before going up the hill to the beginning of the coaster, where it paused for about 30 seconds, and then the ride started. The college kids must have known there would be a pause. Maybe they’d ridden it before I’m not sure.

But as we sat there on that peak, 6 people I’ve never known, and will never know again, sang a very very lonely 11 year old happy birthday. Loudly. And with gusto. They were happy and laughing and joyful. And it made me feel less alone in the world.

I am 29 years old this year, and I still remember them. I still remember that kindness. It is so important. It doesn’t go into a vacuum. It exists beside me in my daily life. And I love the idea that I have been that person to someone else too.

It’s stunningly lovely to be human when we’re kind to each other.

[lymmea]

OH THIS CAN’T BE LEFT IN THE NOTES

[guooey]

[guooey]

[snaret-deactivated20251116]

[acacia-propaganda]

I can’t stop thinking about this video

[inkskinned]

"the curtains weren't blue on purpose. why should we care?"

my love! let me ask you this - did you eat breakfast today? this tiny moment in your life. just think about it. did you?

for some of you, the answer is yes and for some of you it is technically and for some of you it is does coffee count. some of you reached for cereal or gmo-free overnight oats or frozen waffles or 3-day-old pizza. sometimes we eat the same thing, every day, for weeks. i get tired of eggs randomly, only to go back to craving them desperately. i'm cuban; i take my coffee like my father showed me, very milky and sweet.

some of us ate in a hurry. some of us hate eating breakfast but if we don't we will get nauseous later. some of us took our meds first or took our meds after. some of us have a kitchen 5 feet wide and sometimes it's the biggest room in the house. some of us are confident there will be food in the pantry and some of us flinch and say well, the paycheck is coming. some of us turn on a podcast while we eat or we scroll our phones or write in our diaries.

some of us are choosing, specifically, not to eat breakfast. some of us are too busy. some of us are pretending we "just forgot," but we are ignoring the warning signs that everything feels too-heavy. some of us are so consumed with anxiety or grief that we can't eat. some of us can't stand up long enough to make our coffee. some of us have no table to sit down and eat.

i cannot tell you what an artist "meant" by their choices. but they did have to make a choice, conscious or otherwise, to give you information. to give you a little bit more light. each of these choices are little stars of data; connecting speckles for you to weave through, drawing a line.

you cannot use a mirror in a dark room. for some of us; we will not care that the curtains are blue, because that will just be a data point and not enough light to see by. for some of us, the blue curtains will be the same as our childhood bedroom. it will make us seasick. for some of us, blue will be the color of frostbite. it might look like a pixel up close; but from a distance, oh! the picture blooms.

i cannot tell you what will stick out for you. what will carry meaning. some of you will read the sentence "i didn't have breakfast today" and say "this means nothing." some of you will read that and say "oh, me neither." some of you will say "this means the character is probably a little grouchy." some of you will say "oh, i wonder if they're okay. why didn't they eat anything?" ... art is a mirror. i am holding hands with you, over space and time, and asking you to feel something with me.

i want you to read my work and find a blue pair of curtains. i want you to read my work and find things in it that i never imagined placing. i have no way of knowing what will resonate with you, that's true. and maybe i just was hungry while i wrote this, and thinking about the eggs in my fridge. but if you found meaning, that meaning is yours. it cannot be erased just because i didn't "intend" it. you created a different world by interpreting my work. it's collaborative! that's beautiful! that's stunning!

just! imagine looking at the night sky and saying - it's stupid to have a favorite constellation or a favorite star. they're just there.

because here's the thing - across centuries and cultures, we look up. we still find meaning in the stars. these beautiful, lovely scattered accidents. are you looking? they call. and we look back and say oh! of course we are!

[edenaziraphale]

Once, when I was still a very young writer, a friend of mine was doing me a favor and editing a piece for me. It was a short piece focused around the concepts of loss and re-connection, growth and separation and the pieces of yourself that are held inside of others. When my friend had finished her first read-through and was gathering her thoughts she called me and, completely breathless with excitement, said, "I love the way you structured this! The seasons changing with each new movement, the fact that each passage initiates a new physical aspect of the reunion- I just love that." It was all she could talk about for fifteen minutes. What beautiful motion I had created, how circular it made the whole piece feel. She was so excited that I couldn't bring myself to tell her that none of her favorite parts of the story were intentional. I didn't realize I'd done any of those things when I was writing it. But upon rereading for myself, I could see what she meant. The opening of a door, the crushed leaves of fall, the first step toward a new life. It was all lying in wait for me. I only needed another pair of eyes to show me the way. All of that to say that nothing is created in a vacuum, and the choices that we make are, in fact, choices- whether we realize we're making them or not. Life is collaborative, which means that art is, too. By default. The things that my friend saw in my art and in me changed my perception of my own piece and in this way, we made something together. That's how this is meant to go. All of us learning from one another collectively, changing each other on and on. Forever. Reading, as OP said, is a form of creation.

[jmfenner91]

Night is calling.

[skittyminecraft]

x

[arabella-ardor]

[faggotjonesss]

[skunkes]

On a lighter + adjacent note i love dis tweet + these QRTs of it ^_^... literally...

[leahgardner-art]

I’m like a moth drawn to a flame

[charlottecors]

[peanutmyth]

the him

[draculagerard]

Fuck personality tests. Who comes to your mind when I say "Michael"

[peanutmyth]

[thecigarettesenate]

i am not a taskmaster blog but i AM autistic and a taskmaster fan and this post made me have some emotions earlier today and i am yet to see it shared on tumblr

[mangysah]

Carrying you home

+ They wear frog hats ^_^

[peanutmyth]

taskmaster is the most autistic game show no i wont elaborate

[mangysah]

RUNNING AWAY FROM THE SCENE OF THE CRIME! (Subway surfers theme intensifies)

+ Mob facial expression practices, ???%

[enchantingruinscandy]

Putting powdered sugar on the post below

[enchantingruinscandy]