Show & Tell
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Origami Around
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
izzy's playlists!
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
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Discoholic 🪩
Game of Thrones Daily
will byers stan first human second
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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
styofa doing anything
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
One Nice Bug Per Day
Jules of Nature
ellievsbear
JBB: An Artblog!
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@philliplane-blog
Credits
Narrator - Phillip
the little one - M
Cat - Catherine
Nile - Hudson
Double A - Aleexsan
John - Hyunsu
Superman - Severyn
Beef - Bethany
Sweetheart - Victoria
Further thanks to:
Norine, for showing me that friends come from all walks of life.
Yejoon, for giving me the confidence.
Jacky, for being a role model and my oldest acquaintance.
Edward, for light in some of the darkest times of my life.
Remember to be happy. Good luck, and goodbye.
can’t tell if this is a happy or sad song
on guilt/Guilt
it’s the one thing that makes me feel slimy. it makes me want to sleep, and i don’t mean in the way that i want to take a nice long nap or go to bed for 12+ hours. i mean sleep like toss and turn around on my bed, feeling too hot or too cold, thinking about everything but no one thing particular.
guilt slumbers in one’s gut and wreaks havoc on one’s mind.
i have always maintained that it is livable to not be able to communicate with you, as long as i continue to try. broken chinese and a few taps on the translator are more nuances than disruption. speaking english is who i am now. i can’t get rid of it, and i won’t apologize for it, because you are half the reason i speak english.
i will always, always want to try to communicate with you. i won’t always try this hard. you and i have a ten year old that looks up to both of us. except you are her shepherd, i am merely an older sheep she imitates.
so it frustrates the shit out of me when you forbid her from doing things that are simple and innocent. so she enjoys wearing a worn out jacket. so she enjoys literature (are you actually serious about this one? no, i know you are, it’s just that you’re a hypocrite. you don’t only want her to read. you only want her to read what you want her to read.). so she is not tall enough, or skinny enough, or have enough meat on her bones (you do realize you have contradictory desires, yeah?). so she is not an angel sent from heaven to serve your every need. so she does not have the ability to read your mind to do everything you want her to before you tell her.
guilt is not you crying, it is telling me you understand that i think you have failed as a parental unit. guilt is realizing that you will continue to try to manipulate me (read: us) into thinking you won’t try to be a better parental unit. you are useless to me as a parental unit the second i move out under this roof- and that is not a lack of filial piety speaking, that is an overabundance of protectiveness over the only light of my life that you have provided me with in the last decade.
you fucking psychopath. i wish i never inherited your nose. i wish i never inherited your brains. i wish i never knew you. i wish i hadn’t lost two years with my father. i wish i never knew your family. i wish that i could reverse the damage you’ve done to me. i wish that i could prevent the damage you’ll inflict on her. i wish i won’t regret writing this.
guilt is all of this.
Guilt is wishing that i was God.
not so much a switch, more of a lever.
“hey remember when you promised yourself you’d write until you have 3000 by 12/24???? :)”
-it’s fuckn almost 12/22-
me: o fuk
Did someone order a purrito? (photo by craftybadger17)
adolescence somehow manages to sneak over- and undertones of sex into every part of your art (read: life) even if you’re not having any.
the more they change, the more we stay the same.
when nile had broken up with his then-girlfriend (one of?) the first thing(s) he did was tell me and Double A. much to our befuddlement. both of us had thought it was a fucking honor to date nile - nile will always remain one of the best people i know, and not just because he’s my boy. i’ve known him for nearly five years and not once has this man done something wrong for the sake of doing something wrong. nile is one of the best human beings i know. so when something like this happened it was as if we were blessed that we were the two he confided in. not only that, he’d known that we’d ask, even if ever so gently.
“________ and i broke up. i’m okay. i don’t want to talk about it right now.”
------
i’ve only seen Double A irritated once. he was irritated because of me, but at someone else. how was i so able to insult someone he cared about, yet tell the truth at the same time? it boggled his mind. everyone he cared about were good people but here i was, laying down verbal artillery at someone so sweet, so pure. and who was i to talk about THIS PERSON? i think back to how confused he must have been. not only was everything he had heard about me true (all of which were negative things, i’m sure), but the kicker was that he actually kind of liked me. and how was i making so much sense? furthermore, how was i able to give actual scenarios that had happened during exchanges between him and this other person - events that i was describing and events that had actually taken place between him and this person were too eerily similar. an uncanny resemblance between this person in my mind that i was talking shit about and the person he knew.
“just because you’re right doesn’t mean you’re good.”
------
i’m a few months shy of knowing nile for 5 years.
5 years. half a decade.
and while i was aware of Double A’s existence prior to, i can only really say i’ve known him for around 2 years or so. cumulatively, i’ve spent 7 years knowing these two individuals. since meeting these two, i’ve cracked dumb jokes, had awkward silences, and danced. to this day, i crack dumb jokes (nile: if they invent a car that runs on stupid jokes, phil could go far), we’re awkward by nature, and all of us still dance. we’ve gone from seeing each other every day, or at least a few times a week, to not seeing each other for months at a time. we have a groupchat titled -me- is a fuckboy (hilariously true within our little trio (though i’d argue that title should rest on another’s head)) yet somehow the feeling is the same.
Double A is now jacked, hits the gym multiple times a day. nile is nile, though now i know more about him than i wish i did. i wonder what these two would say about me. i’d hope that they say that i’ve become more dependable, a rock of sorts for the two of them and also the one that encourages them to improve every day. or maybe i’m overestimating myself.
to be honest, though, if it wasn’t for these two to be a rock for, to be dependable for, i wouldn’t amount to half the man i am today.
concept: you, me, in the most empty bar in nyc. for some reason “baby it’s cold outside” starts playing. we slow dance, you rest your head on my shoulder.
i stayed overnight at my school’s library (it’s only open 24/7 during finals week) for the first time last night and i did work probably 50 minutes out of every hour i was there, so suffice it to say i got nothing done.
but i’m getting there and it feels really good to have direction in my life.
gonna try to speak/write less, dance/record more.
bring me a lover bring me a pen bring me paper give us a night leave us alone.
Ijeoma Umebinyuo, owning winter with a poet (via theijeoma)
LMAO this is so ridiculous i’m trying to write more nonsensical scenarios but everything comes out so incoherently it makes me angry
+1 scary
when i try to calm myself down whenever i enter a situation that i don’t want to be in, i imagine violently murdering the people present in the room.
and then i persuade myself not to do it.
it sounds a little scary, i understand. but it’s not. let me explain.
because how can i persuade myself not to do something i don’t want to do in the first place?
but i’m a rebel at heart.
you can’t hardwire me not to do, gotta go fast gotta go fast. it’s like putting the cookie monster on the assembly line at the oreo factory. tell that guy to account for himself. he’ll either fuck up or go crazy in 10 minutes.
there’s always some urge to run. where to? no idea. just run. when i’m in the office, when i’m barefoot at home. bolt out the door and run, run, run. disregard the fire in my lungs, the cuts in the soles of my feet, the tears in my heels, and my legs giving and going. i ran track for one semester in high school and it was the best pain i’d ever felt in my life. if you ever want to speak to a masochist, speak to distance runners. they induce their own pain and convince themselves it doesn’t hurt enough.
i am like a runner in this case.
when i try to calm myself down, i think about violently murdering the people in the room. i convince myself not to do it.
i wonder how his skull would look as a paperweight on my desk chill......
how does the texture of a human heart feel? you’re fucked up in the head
she’s got nice eyes. kill her last. make her watch. what the fuck bro
“sorry, what did you say?” i ask. my right hand grips the side of my chair so hard i feel the edges of the chair cutting into my palm. i don’t even realize that i was pressing my pencil down so hard the point had broken. i don’t even acknowledge the person that i interrupted as he begins speaking again, repeating himself. all i can think about is how fast, how long i can run.
nah, not nearly as fast enough. not nearly as far enough.
dear porn blogs
please stop following me.
sincerely,
just why???
parts of you. because of you, i never want to know anyone else’s coffee order.
just yours.
