[existential-celestial]

Martin Espada, A Mayan Astronomer in Hell’s Kitchen: Poems

[spinnaker1509]

“Dogs don’t know what they look like. Dogs don’t even know what size they are. No doubt it’s our fault, for breeding them into such weird shapes and sizes. My brother’s dachshund, standing tall at eight inches, would attack a Great Dane in the full conviction that she could tear it apart. When a little dog is assaulting its ankles the big dog often stands there looking confused — “Should I eat it? Will it eat me? I am bigger than it, aren’t I?” But then the Great Dane will come and try to sit in your lap and mash you flat, under the impression that it is a Peke-a-poo… Cats know exactly where they begin and end. When they walk slowly out the door that you are holding open for them, and pause, leaving their tail just an inch or two inside the door, they know it. They know you have to keep holding the door open. That is why their tail is there. It is a cat’s way of maintaining a relationship. Housecats know that they are small, and that it matters. When a cat meets a threatening dog and can’t make either a horizontal or a vertical escape, it’ll suddenly triple its size, inflating itself into a sort of weird fur blowfish, and it may work, because the dog gets confused again — “I thought that was a cat. Aren’t I bigger than cats? Will it eat me?” … A lot of us humans are like dogs: we really don’t know what size we are, how we’re shaped, what we look like. The most extreme example of this ignorance must be the people who design the seats on airplanes. At the other extreme, the people who have the most accurate, vivid sense of their own appearance may be dancers. What dancers look like is, after all, what they do.”

— Ursula Le Guin, in The Wave in the Mind (via fortooate)

[heyyy-its-j]

This paragraph went in so many different directions before it ended. What the fuck Ursula

[quotefeeling]

“Please don’t expect me to always be good and kind and loving. There are times when I will be cold and thoughtless and hard to understand.”

— Sylvia Plath

[remanence-of-love]

[quotefeeling]

“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.”

— Jack Kerouac

[scottbaiowulf-deactivated201805]

Male writers writing female characters:

“Cassandra woke up to the rays of the sun streaming through the slats on her blinds, cascading over her naked chest. She stretched, her breasts lifting with her arms as she greeted the sun. She rolled out of bed and put on a shirt, her nipples prominently showing through the thin fabric. She breasted boobily to the stairs, and titted downwards.”

[m1ssc0mmun1cat10n]

‘ She breasted boobily to the stairs, and titted downwards’ is the greatest fucking sentence I have ever read.

[silly-activites]

THE ORIGINAL??

[dduane]

(smh) Never thought I’d see it in the wild. Yet here it is. :)

[browniejeane]

always gotta reblog the ‘breasted boobily’ post

[oldwinesoul]

[teenytinydinosaurs]

I was told when you're sleepless it's because someone's dreaming of you, but I'm sleepless thinking about you.

So if the myth is true, i hope I'm the reason you're wide awake right now too

insomnia was never mutual

I’ve cried enough to sink the Titanic, lungs full of salt, thoughts turning manic, a shipwreck heart with no one to save it, I loved you too much and you never had to say it.

They told me sleepless means someone dreams of you, that somewhere, softly, you’re being held onto, but I lie awake with your name like a curse, loving you louder while you love me worse.

So if that myth is anything more than a lie, if thoughts can haunt where distance can’t try, then I hope you’re awake with that same quiet dread, but I think you’re sleeping just fine instead.

But darling, I hope you’re staring at your ceiling too, Cursing the night for reminding you. As I write you into each breath that I take, Even as every part of me starts to break

Because I am here, rotting in thought, replaying the love that you barely fought for, tracing your voice in the cracks of my mind, holding onto something you already left behind.

Always the poet, never the poem, always the ache with no place to go home, I made you eternal in lines you won’t read, while I fade into verses you’ll never need.

Ink-stained fingers, your ghost in my veins, I turn you to beauty, I turn me to pain, a masterpiece no one will ever claim, just a heart with a pen and your name.

And still I keep writing, it’s all that I know, dressing up wounds so they don’t fully show, because if I stop, if I let myself see, you were never losing sleep over me.

While I drown every night in the thought of you, wide awake… just another thing you’ll never have to go through.

[loserpumpkin]

Friday, March 13, 2026

Today I woke up with her on my mind.

It wasn’t even a thought that arrived later. She was already there before I opened my eyes, as if she had spent the entire night walking through my dreams.

I don’t remember exactly what I dreamed. The details faded the way dreams usually do when morning comes but there is one thing I remember clearly. She was there and she was as beautiful as ever.

It’s strange how the heart can recognize a presence even when memory can’t rebuild the whole scene. I only know she was with me somewhere in the night and that something inside me moved more than usual.

Now I think about her and my chest hurts in a quiet but constant way, like a soft pressure that refuses to leave. My eyes fill with tears without warning, all because I love her more than words are able to hold and even so, I cannot tell her.

Sometimes that thought scares me more than anything else. The possibility that I might never be able to show her again all the love that still lives inside me.

If there were one thing I would wish for with my whole heart, it would be the chance to show her how well I can love her. With calm, with patience, with the tenderness I have always felt for her.

It hurts to know she isn’t here. It hurts to accept that today her voice is not part of my day, that her laughter doesn’t cross the air, that her eyes don’t meet mine and I miss her so much.

There are moments when I feel that something very small would be enough, to hear her voice. Just that or maybe even a photograph of her, a frozen moment where I could once again admire the way light finds her face.

Sometimes I think that would be enough to remind my heart why it continues to beat this way. Last night’s dream left something strange inside me. I don’t remember the story but I feel its effect.

She has stayed closer than usual today, more present, more attached to my thoughts, as if her memory were floating across my skin. I feel her in every part of me with an intensity that almost burns.

Her absence weighs like an invisible form of touch and it unsettles me because I don’t quite know what to do with so much love when it has nowhere to go.

Even in the middle of this confusion there is something that remains completely clear. I love her. I love her with a deep certainty that time cannot weaken. Sometimes I think loving like this is like carrying a light inside the chest.

Even when the world changes, even when the distance grows long, that light remains and even though she is not here with me today, even though she only appears in dreams and in thoughts that return again and again, my heart still recognizes the same truth.

There are people who become more than a memory, they become a place where the soul returns to when everything else feels uncertain and for me that place has always been her.

Even now, even through the distance, even in the silence, my heart keeps repeating the same thing like a quiet prayer: God, I love her so much.

I love you Calabaza. Always.

[flygoing]

laptop overheating?? pour water on it to cool it down!

[chastittie]

i trusted you

[flygoing]

Do not trust people like me. I will take you to museums, and parks, and monuments, and kiss you in every beautiful place, so that you can never go back to them without tasting me like blood in your mouth. I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible. And when I leave you will finally understand, why storms are named after people

[four-leafed-queer-gal-deactivat]

THE ORIGINAL?!?!?!?!?!

[loserpumpkin]

I feel alone without you.

Not a loud kind of loneliness but one that settles into my bones and makes the world feel heavier.

Weeks have passed without hearing your voice and the silence has your shape.

I miss everything about you, not only what you said but the way you were, the way you existed, the way you filled spaces without trying.

It has been years since we have been together, years no one has measured the way I have.

No one imagined how deeply I long to have you again, how much I ache to hold you in my arms as if time had never passed.

Sometimes I close my eyes and imagine your body close to mine, your breathing soft, my hands caring for you the way I always wanted to.

I love you in a way that distance has not reduced, I love you with patience and with fire.

I love you with the part of me that endures and with the part that breaks when you are not here.

The world feels heavier without you but my love does not weaken, if anything, it becomes more aware, more certain, more eternal.

If I could choose a place, it would not be a country or a city.

It would be the exact space where your head rests on my chest and my arms wrap around you with the certainty that you are safe.

I love you with every small part of my being, with every thought that carries your name.

With every heartbeat that, even in your absence, still chooses you.

Even though today I am alone, even though years have passed, even though the world feels heavy, my love for you has never learned to surrender.

I love you Calabaza. Always.

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

sick, nauseous, retching at how corporate interests demand all technological advancement must come at the cost of choice and consent, must be forcefed to the uncooperative consumer. a digital menu would be useful? 'k great, they're FUCKING MANDATORY :D Wireless earbuds are an innovation, so we stole your fucking earphone jack. hard to find coins for the laundry machine? no problem, now you can pay with card, in fact you must pay with card, in fact you must DOWNLOAD AN APP TO WASH A LOAD ON MED-TEMP QUICK CYCLE. you want to park your car? you want to PARK your CAR you dumb CUCKFUCKLE? you weeping seeping pathetic pustulant bedsore of an open wound???

download our app! give us your data! give us control of your money, your time, your viewership, your exhaustion!!! give us your location, your viewing history, your marketable hopes and third-party-resellable dreams, we require access to your eyes your ears your motherfucking synapses, click here to accept OUR terms and OUR conditions!!!

to us you aren't a person per se, but you could aspire to someday be a profit

[wanderingsins]

[followcb]

Hey Mom

is that you

mom, hey mom

now I understand

my inability to sleep

because today

you're turning

ninety-five

and we should

celebrate you

find a new way

to come together

enjoy birthday dinner

share this day

between heaven and earth

maybe we should

meet on the moon

revel in the full

illuminations that dispel

the darkness we

know all too well

maybe we can

still savor cake

and make a wish

come true

☆☆☆☆☆

©️ @followcb ☆ February 3, 2026

[puffbirdstudio]

Since it’s Spotify Wrapped season I thought I’d share this reminder that streaming services are killing the music industry. Musicians can’t make a living like this. If you love an artist, find them on Bandcamp and actually buy their albums.

[void-admin]

Reminder: This friday (December 5th) is Bandcamp Friday! That means 100% of the proceeds from album sales on Bandcamp go directly to the artists you buy from.

[paper-wounds]

“If I Am Killed For Simply Living” — Althea Davis

[inbetweencoffees]

What’s your favorite thing to cook? (nov. 2025)