Peter Solarz
Cosimo Galluzzi
Keni
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ojovivo

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#extradirty

Origami Around
will byers stan first human second
art blog(derogatory)
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

Janaina Medeiros
Monterey Bay Aquarium
h

Kaledo Art
Sweet Seals For You, Always

PR's Tumblrdome
NASA
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@periodicobsessions
I hate being surprised. It always ends up being bad news.
It's funny because even with all the unemployed time in the world now, I still can't get anything done.
There's a part of me that says you're pathetic and lack discipline. You never get anything done. You're always distracted. This is your curse.
There's a part of me that says it's only been two months and I'm still traumatized and healing. You'll get there.
The Alchemist sits on my desk everyday collecting dust and I feel more and more guilty every time I see it because I borrowed it from someone I don't even know from a party. I tell myself when I'm finally done reading it I'm going to ask Max for that guy's address again and mail it back with a gift card.
My abstract self portrait painting still sits at home unfinished, one outstanding of many art projects I've started, never finished, and placed in piles in different places of my home. The strategy is that if it's easily seen it might get done. Might.
I had someone from my last job even help me drive a giant masonite mural from school to my home to save it from being thrown away. I paid 200 for a rental truck from home depot and got so hyped bringing it back with me because I had a good idea for a sculpture. It's currently sitting against the wall in my office, a room that is never used as an office. I even kept the heavy ratchet straps from that day, thinking maybe sometime later I might need them again.
I have this wonderful idea for a book. I want to write it to tell a great story that breaks every typical story mold out there and warn people of the possible futures ahead in our ever growing technological and isolating world. I don't read books though. I write a bit here and there on Tumblr, Threads, and my phone notes. I have a bookshelf of books I have collected since high school and have never finished or even started reading yet. That's it. I don't consider myself an avid reader or writer. Am I in over my own head about such an idea? Probably.
I do this a lot. I look at something and I say, shit, I can do that. I can be a DJ, I can write books, I can be an artist, I can design games, I can make video content, I can start a non profit, I can run my own graveyard. Bitch slow down.
I've been watching a lot of Chinese New Year prediction content for 2026. It's my Ben Ming Nian and in a time where I've gotten to be more spiritual than I have ever been in my life, I'm also honestly so scared I'm going to get super fucked in the future. One warning stood out to me from a video - "If you don't choose a direction this year, life will choose one for you." That really stuck with me more than any other warning. And all the warnings sucked for this year.
I've been dreaming A LOT these past months. My dreams have been all over the place and really crazy intense. The night before I had a dream that Esteban's mother went to the hospital and I was a terrible friend and had forgotten. We went to the hospital to see her which was heartbreaking and Fen and I tried to use coals to make a warm fire for her. Apparently, using coal and broken cement from destroyed buildings to make a fire in a hospital was the "Philly" way of doing things, they told me. I woke up from that dream and immediately texted him to ask if his mother is okay. "Uh.. I think so.. Why?" Nothing, just checking.
Last night I had a dream that Walmart employees were being expected to use about 20% of their earnings to pay for snow removal and trash disposal at the stores they were working at. I was an employee and I got to see this bullshit first hand while working in the soap shaping section at Walmart. The manager found me at the end of my shift and told me I owed them $260 for trash removal that week and I almost cried. People thought it was ridiculous but it wasn't getting enough attention. It was causing weird competition and favortism among employees who were now fighting to work in sections of the store that had less trash bins. Hulk Hogan had even advocated for us and publicly spoke out on the issue before he died. These are my fucking dreams and they are fucking insane.
My entire life is a metaphor for how disorganized, vividly creative, indecisive, insane, unproductive, and absolutely exhausted I am. And now I want a nap.
I just want to let you know a little secret.
When I handwrote that letter and I mailed it to you, I kissed it before I put it in the mailbox. I have never done that before. Ever. I know it's something I've seen people do in old movies and shows, but I didn't even think of that when I did it. It just felt right in the moment - it felt like second nature. And that's the best way I can describe how much I care about you and the magic I feel for you...But would you ever do anything like that for me?
Death by Amanda
A dream of me and you
but only I see you
Your eyes are drawn elsewhere
Above, there she is
The villain of your story
but you're only a simp to hers
She dazzles on acrobatic poles
up high for the audience to see from the balconies
swaying, bending back and forth
hands reach out to her beauty when she leans near
You run to her
Was I even really there?
I watch you desperately push through the crowds
Rushing to the rails
I stand below you now in the shadows of people
and only helplessly witness from the pinhole of my vision
your face, your eyes, your gaze in surrender
to being entranced in the way I have never seen you before
The sight of her pierces blind venom in your heart
A liquor so thick and sweet
so intoxicating to you
and so sickening to see
You reach out over the balcony
so clearly mad with infatuation
your body hanging over the ledge
your hand tensed with lust and need
desperately trying to grab her
but you're just a hand among the others
She acts like she doesn't even see you
Her face remains still, carrying the grace of her dance
Still swaying
Still performing
Still playing the crowd
I see everything for what it is
Because I'm so far below.
I'm so distantly away from you.
But I know how I can help.
Here let me help you reach her, I say.
You turn around and flinch to see me
like you really did forget that I was there.
I'm on the balcony with you in the sea of moving people.
My smile is warm, my presence is calm.
I got you, I say.
Your face begins to twist in irritation.
How are you going to help -
I run to you, arms out and forward
and I shove you off the rail.
You topple off the ledge and I watch you fall to your death.
There, I say, you're with her now.
Forever.
I'm sorry that I'm tailgating you. I just want to be close to someone in this darkness.
Do you ever wish you could take the best parts of two people and put them together to make the perfect person for you? That's how I feel I am to you.
My hand is being forced.
If God was here what would he say?
Play the card. Don't play the card.
Wait.
Don't wait.
What is this test?
A test of dignity?
A test of patience?
A test of weakness?
A test of bravery?
I'm lost. I'm sensitive.
I'm dramatic. I'm not lying.
Am I like everyone else?
Am I also foolish in my own self righteousness?
Am I the child that everyone perceives me to be?
Will I be the snickering fox that will shock them all?
Or will they have known all along?
Play the hand, temptation and emotion say.
Wait, logic says.
Either way escape is on the horizon.
Please, tell me how to turn my heart into stone.
How do you do it so well?
I just end up having feelings instead.
Everyone has chosen their own adventure. Don't compare yours to theirs.
Please give me something good to overthink about.
— unknown (via letsbelonelytogetherr)
— Mary Lambert, Shame Is an Ocean I Swim Across; "You Are with the Wrong Person" (via lunamonchtuna)
He lures me to bed and kisses my neck
Leaning over me he asks me
What do you want?
I could have said YOU
I could have said SEX
I say
I want to go back in time and live life knowing what I know now.
That way I could practice the things I should have acquired a long time ago.
My voice and the way it sounds when it says no, I don't want to do that and I don't have to.
My rebellion and how it feels to have anger justified instead of smothered.
How to pick and choose my battles instead of forfeiting them all.
My autonomy as a child and the confidence and creativity that come with it.
You know what I want?
I want people to stop fucking killing each other.
In every sense of the word.
I want people to fucking grow up and help each other do it.
I'm tired of secrets, I'm tired of the political games we play, and the masks we have to construct so that we can be palatable for social settings and those who hold power over us.
I want someone to finally fucking see me and not want something from me.
I want someone who just wants to know me - all of me.
I want to be seen and witnessed.
I want to finally stop being underestimated because I look like a child.
I want people to stop ruining my peace and safety.
I want people to ask me questions so I can explain instead of having the gaps filled with their own assumptions.
I want to be wiser.
I want to actually be free.
I want the world to not suck so much.
I want love.
I want healing.
I want it to not hurt so much.
I want reasons to not give up - on everyone, on you, on life.
I just want everything to be okay.
Is that even possible for like.. 5 minutes?
He looks at me and shrugs.
I was just asking if you wanted to make out.
Right, I say. Let's just fuck and get it over with.
Please give me some grace. It's my first time being alive.