Help it's the year 2018 and we still have The Orange as our president save me
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@prepdenile
Help it's the year 2018 and we still have The Orange as our president save me
maybe some day
cheese will
die
IVE ESCAPED FROM THE BASEMENT, DONT TRUST THE FAKE
full chart + 0,+ 1,+ 2,+ 3,+ 4,+ 5,+ 6,+ 7,+ 8,+ 9,+ A,+ B,+ C,+ D,+ E,+ F 0, 0, PLANE 0: BASIC MULTILINGUAL PLANE 0, 0, ONE BYTE CHARACT
made a unicode chart in google sheets because I wanted to
karp a didum my peeps
You need to be stopped
squeeze the day
thought this was the geneerator
Two people, trapped in an endless time loop, develop wildly different methods of coping with the boredom.
I’m not really sure how long I’ve been in this time loop, but I do know it’s been a while, despite the fact that my twin brother hasn’t aged a day. I doubt I have either. I, personally don’t find the loop so bad. There are worse places to get stuck for infinity in than a massive library, that also contains craft and science supplies. I myself have been running rampant with the stuff. I’ve read so many books, done so much crafting, and completed so many complex experiments. I pass the time well, even though there are days where it feels pointless - the craft I spent 5 hours on will be gone tomorrow. All my notes from the experiment I spent all of today on will be gone.
My brother, on the other hand, passes the time in a way I dislike. He doesn’t read - he designs complex explosives, and then he blows stuff up with them. Always near by, I think he just wants to agrivate me.
“James, why are you blowing up the books?” I asked him once, a long time ago.
“Because tomorrow they’ll be exactly the same.” Was his response. It was probably years ago at this point. Once, more recently, he blew himself up, and I thought he had left me alone in this infinite place. But when I woke up, he was right there, on the floor beside me, not even a scratch on his face.
This place is unnatural. And even though all signs point to yes, I’m not sure my brother and I are truly still alive.
fool me once: umm okey..
fool me twice: wtf o_O
fool me three times i piss so hard it rips
dafuq ? lul xD
fool me three times i piss so hard it rips
This is what we mean by community-led Justice
also known as: anarchy
Thats etsy is poorly designed for was thinking more to create content people shouldnt have old knees. thats fine, but actually steal someones kneecaps just so natural habitat having the whole thing because I might actually enjoy tests.
did i just have a stroke
You, an atheist, have died. All the gods that have ever been line up to offer you their version of heaven if only you believe in _them_. Turns out souls are currency and yours is up for grabs.
There are many Gods. They speak, and I am tired. A mass of voices coiling around me, each telling their own tale. They speak over one another, they talk to me, they do not listen. And I am tired.
Currency. Is this what I am to them?
They will not stop speaking. They offer me things. They will take me to my loved ones. They will gift me joy and music. They will have me serve, in their armies, in their choirs. Some tell me stories of how they made me. From clay. From nothing at all. Some tell me they love me, small as I am, that I am their creation and so their child.
Above all, they repeat their stories. They talk incessantly of their power, their battles, of the ways and reasons they are feared. How long will they talk? Time does not happen here. It is so much effort to stay. Effort to maintain. Effort to exist.
So many Gods. Gods whose names I had already heard. Modern Gods whose human disciples still speak their names. Obscure Gods whose stories were written on tablets, on scrolls, thousands of years before, whose only proof and records were discovered underground, in caves, in ancient lands. Every God there ever was. They are all here with me. They have been talking for years. They repeat their stories. Their stories are important to them. They demand, plead for my attention.
I died knowing I was dying. I died as I lived, believing in no Creator, no great demiurge, and no final salvation from death. Knowing that gods were stories we told. I believed only in the universe. That it existed before me and would continue without me.
And it has.
The voices scream their stories. Why are they so desperate for me? Despite their insistence, I know what I knew before. My truth is unchanged. My truth is of the universe, of its physics and particles, of its probable beginnings, of its possible ends. Of the simple fact of existence.
These gods are not my creator. I was created by a long line of life, of unlikely Life happening and colliding and continuing. Eons. Three, four eons, billions of years all lined up behind me, all of my predecessors, their lives and their stories, they are my chapters and I am their sum. I am the story of Life, in all its improbably glory. And gods are as old as humans, but I am as old as Life, and Life is much older.
I think I’ve solved it. I think I know why they seek us. They want what Life wants. To exist. To continue. They need their legends told, at any expense, because:
We wrote them. I said before: gods are stories that we write and tell. We are their Creators. And this is why they scream for me, for my ears, for my attention. Stories exist only so long as they are told. Gods exist only so long as they have a listener. And I know they have nothing to offer me. There are no rooms, there are no gates, there are no hallways, no crowds for me to join. They only keep me here to listen. If I accept an offer, what then? Will they stop speaking, disappointed, and leave me? Will they keep delaying? Will the god of my choice sweep in, desperate, and keep me here as long as I can be convinced?
All of my being is tired. Life is not meant to persist this long after it is through. My presence and existence, temporary from the start, is loosening and loosening. All of my pieces beg to be released. I was not made to last.
I am through. I have given these voices enough.
So I do what life does when it is finished. I dissolve, and return to the world.
“I am the story of Life in all it’s improbable glory.” is my fav quote so far in all of Tumblr, thanks for making my day, creepy fellow
she read this post with her pussy
yes because as we all know the pussy lies between the heart and the brain
“dont fight hate with hate” so u admit, u hate us?
“dont fight fire with fire” so u admit, u set the fire?
this is like when people say “feminists just want to switch the roles so women are above men instead!”
…so, you’re recognising that there is already an existing inequality and power imbalance
ok but "you set the fire" is different from "there is a fire."
like in OP's example no one is admitting that they hate you, just that there is hate
if i knew how to code i would make a program that edits wikipedia articles so all the words hyperlink to their wiktionary definition.
wait even better: a chrome extension that says that it does nothing, but it really has a 1/20 chance of redirecting any hyperlinked word in wikipedia to the 5th revision of it, so that you get redirected to a stub article. so sometimes you go to look at something when researching a paper and go "oh cool the wiki page on déscartes" but then you click on it and don't get much info and you have to write your essay with a better source
why is this getting notes
I’m making flan for the first time and I’m so scared it’s going to turn out bad
there should be a german word for that ambiguous fear of trying a new recipe and not knowing how it will end
The only word close to that right now is stress
not specific enough. we should invent a word. let’s see what should we use as a root. hmm i suggest the prefix -noia from paranoia
Sounds good but what would the suffix be?
opsie -noia is a suffix, i typoed. for a prefix then, let’s see…something to do with cooking, baking, let me take a look
ok not loving any of these… well maybe bacanoia? how’s that sound?
scratch all of that. i was over thinking. culinary + paranoia = culinoia
there, that’s it.
cu·li·noi·a
ˈkələˈnoiə
noun
a feeling of suspicion or anxiety surrounding the outcome of a new recipe.
Oh my god you are the smartest person I know
That’s really unfortunate
wait hold on, you're ignoring something important here
cockonoia
Why the hell do I find this amusing