Whenever I come back to Tumblr and check the activity, it’s always this post still getting some notes here and there.
hello vonnie
ojovivo

bliss lane
$LAYYYTER

if i look back, i am lost
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
RMH
Interview Vampire Daily

Origami Around
🩵 avery cochrane 🩵
Monterey Bay Aquarium

shark vs the universe
🪼
d e v o n
Keni
No title available
TMBGareOK. The Official They Might Be Giants tumblr

tannertan36
almost home

Game Changer & Make Some Noise
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Ukraine
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United Kingdom

seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Uruguay

seen from Brazil
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Argentina
seen from Senegal
@puppetdrawer
Whenever I come back to Tumblr and check the activity, it’s always this post still getting some notes here and there.
"But why would I want to write?" you ask me. "As long as the story exists in my head, it's perfect. It's complete. I can see the action so clearly in my mind, the sunlight glinting off the dragon's scales and wisps of vapor from each panicked breath.
"If I put it to paper then it will become sullied by my inexperience, mangled by my stilted pacing and weak dialogue. Everyone will be able to recognize my fingerprints on its body, and the headline will read 'A tragedy! The grand vision, strangled by a clumsy oaf!'"
And I am taking your hands in mine and I am looking you in the eye.
Your story isn't complete.
It feels complete, until you become bold enough to strike the first words. And then you will realize that you only know half of the story. A quarter of it. A handful of fragments.
Your characters will blurt out bits of their past that you didn't know existed until you reached the period at the end of the sentence. Whole countries will rise up between marching lines of ink, bitter rivalries and hopeless loves and ill-healed scars. You will be driven to research trade routes in Morocco in the 14th century and the chemical composition of bulletproof glass (which you will then call 'acrylic' anyway, because it flows better than 'polycarbonate'.)
And dear friend let me tell you, letting yourself write the story is a fae bargain. Because as you transcribe the words, beamed into your mind and flowing through your beautiful hands (or voice, or whatever tool you choose as your hammer for the forge) you will get to read your story, too.
You will falter. You will doubt, and file away letters and lines as you wonder 'but is this good enough?', and some stories will never make it out of your workshop.
It is all worth it to feel the euphoria of those first few letters striking the paper, when you become the first person to ever see this story. And once you experience that joy, you will return to the forge again and again.
Pick up your pen. You are the only one who can write it.
Anakout
(was it a badass scene ? Sorry I didn't watch the prelogy just the memes)
My toxic trait is thinking I could do that
-Well, you can... And you'll have to, it's your job
-Shut up
If FBI agents have access to ur weird google researches maybe they have access to ur Google Doc manuscript that requested it
They're ur first fan
"SO THAT'S WHY YOU NEEDED TO KNOW WHETHER PEROXYD ACID CAN DISSOLVE BLOOD ?! NO ! PLEASE SOMEONE STOP'EM !
- Did they commit a murder ?!
- Yes..." your FBI's agent answered to his colleague, his sobbing eyes glued to the line where Luna Del Rose Y Galore is agonizing, giving her last breath in a pathetic sight.