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[smallwildmeep]

The accurate replica of the original @stridersknowbest quote

how do draw good

fill 14 sketch book

bad stuff is good stuff bc you made stuff

do you like sparkle???? draw sparkle

draw what make your heart do the smiley emote

member to drink lotsa agua or else bad time

d ont stress friend all is well

your art is hot like potato crisps

don't let anyone piss on your good mood amigo

if they do

eat

them

[jostarjo]

[sammymontoya]

Many moons ago I wrote a long list of concrete character goals to help me when plotting stories, since I tend to get bogged down in character interactions and mood setting over action. Recently I put them all in a random generator!

So roll on up and get your characters a goal to fight over!

[smallwildmeep]

You find yourself at heaven's gate, and God himself looks at you with ever knowing eyes. He knows what you've done, now he must decide to let you in or not. How can you justify your existence, the space you've filled up with your atoms, your meaningless behaviors? Can you? Will you? Well, if you don't, the devil awaits with open arms. At least he wants you.

[smallwildmeep]

So I was listening to Conan Gray's song Affluenza today. You know, I feel for you guys who grew up poor, but I relate to this song so much. Like not to brag or be offensive, but I live a pretty wealthy life. We literally have 3 BMW's in my family's garage, live in a higher end neighborhood, and I usually get what I want, need, or other things I never asked for. But because of that, I'm held up to super high expectations, and I'm unable to express myself without being judged and corrected. I have very different views from my family and parents, which has been the cause for many arguments. I just want to be an okay student and have fun, go out, cut my hair, etc. But I'm the model child instead. I noticed the line "They say money can't buy you no love, but a diamond cheers you right up." My dad actually gave me a diamond ring today (a few small diamonds but still) on white gold, but when I look at it all I can think is "But all I want is to be accepted. I don't want to have to rely on material things." So that's my little rant, thanks if you read all of it.

[leonardcohenofficial]

fun studying tip: if you’re a procrastinator, play tom jones’s “what’s new pussycat” on repeat while writing your papers and do not turn it off until you are finished, it will motivate you to finish that essay as quickly as possible

[riverboatfrogs-deactivated20181]

make sure to throw one “it’s not unusual” in the middle while u take ur quick snack break

[captaincrusher]

Here you have the Infinite Jukebox that will play an infinite version of What’s new pussycat, randomly jumping through the verses and never getting to the end. 

[leonardcohenofficial]

do you ever regret a post and the hell it creates

[leonardcohenofficial]

why do you people continue to inflict this awful post on others

[chemicaljupiter]

a gift from me 2 u ♡

[omghotmemes]

I laughed way too hard at this

[mezimraky]

in case anyone is looking through the notes trying to find the original artist it’s will mcphail !! feel free to check out his site but also here are some other things he made too !!

[smooththegoofyshark]

OOOHHH CLICK ON THAT LINK THIS GUY IS FUCKING GREAT

[evilkitten3]

HOLY SHIT

this guy GETS IT

[my-darling-boy]

It shatters my heart that gay people centuries ago lived and died thinking the life they wanted was nothing but an impossible dream, and I’m perpetually heartbroken that very little record of them exists. And while I think about this A LOT, I never really knew how to express it until I stumbled upon that Sappho quote:

“Someone will remember us, I say, even in another time.”

[my-darling-boy]

I’m sorry I know it’s my own comic but I’m not even joking I cry EVERY TIME I read through it, I put so much feeling into this??

The way it starts with the night sky filled with millions of stars and singles in on just two boys...there is the background of WWI, the world in the middle of chaos, more strict and conservative life, the trials of Oscar Wilde having rocked society....but it’s just two men, sitting together in their little corner of the world, alone, having such human thoughts about their own love.

“Do you think they have to hide anymore?... Boys like you and me... long after we’re gone.”

Long after we’re gone.

We are always told that lgbtq+ people never existed before us today. And here is someone during those silent years—someone we’re always told by history doesn’t even exist—showing he knows we will exist for centuries to come.

“Do you think they love differently?”

This panel shows we love the same.

That there is no difference between the way two men loved centuries ago and now, laughing together, happy together, loving, expressions not pictured in period photographs, but out in fields away from prying eyes and on quiet nights in city flats.

“Has the world accepted us? Or will we always be a secret?”

This kills me. Feeling hopeless that the world is not meant for you, but wondering if in the future, is it better for someone else? That even if you couldn’t live happily, perhaps someone else in an indeterminable future is? Or are they in the same spot as you, looking up at the night sky and hoping someday it will be better?

“Do you think they even know we’re here?”

Do you think they even know we’re here? Yes! I’ve just coughed on my shattered heart dust! Some (blocked) clown in the comments to this had the audacity to say something like “Gay people then? How about gay people now lol”. How fucking dare you say that on this post. Do you even care? Do you know how fucking SAD it is that we can’t look back on ourselves and know who we are? That we exist only as fleeting memories and silent, nameless photographs and faces known only by the moon and stars we turned towards when we felt nothing but alone in a world that has shown us endless violence and cruelty?

I wrote this line because the conciseness of it still runs so deep: looking up at the stars, wondering how could individuals not allowed to share their stories ever be remembered? Is anyone looking back on you? Does anyone know what love you had? It’s just this simple yet crushing human longing to be known, to not be forgotten.

“Someone will remember us I say, even in another time.”

At the beginning, it moves from the stars to the boys. And in the end, it moves from the boys to the stars. Not only are we a part of the universe, but the universe is part of us. We are the faces of those who came before us. We share the same night sky. Feel the same sun. The same love. The same identities. We have always been here no matter what anyone says. And I know the world still isn’t the greatest now, but I can’t imagine how these boys would feel to have even just one glimpse at all of us today and see that yes, we are still here. And we know they were here too.

[smallwildmeep]

I've been thinking, what if we really do live in an illusion. For all I know, we could not actually exist in a physical form, but instead just a conciousness that created a piece of this world to survive, because without something to rely on it wouldn't be able to handle the truth. Who are we really? And how badly do we need this illusion; will we ever break free? I'm tired and ready to turn into a mushroom

[smallwildmeep]

What is time? They made it, and they are liars, yet we blindly trust them. We need control, they need control, without it we are nothing. Savage. But time is fading. You walk into a room. It is 1:25 PM. You leave, and come back with a sandwich. It is still 1:25 PM. It has always been 1:25 PM. They are losing control, but they know how to get it back. Will you let them?

[smallwildmeep]

In this world it is yeet or be yote, but sometimes I am not moving, my wig is snatched, yet my mind drifts away from my body and I am left to question why we are here if we only die at the end, so I came to the thrilling conclusion that we must live our lives to the fullest, so we die empty, all the tea having been spilt, as our bodies complete the last leg of this adventure we call a lifetime.

[smallwildmeep]

I've come to a sort of realization. I think I can finally describe what I feel like. My depression is like a cup of water, and I've been holding this cup for a long time, so long my arm is hurting and I wish I could put the cup down or at least dump out the water. But when I do share a little bit of my feelings, when I pour out a little bit of liquid, I panic. I wonder where the weight I knew so well is, and I refill it in my frenzy. By now I don't know a life without my cup, and I don't let anyone take a sip. I just hope it never overflows.