beep

[strawberry-garbage]

I SURE HOPE NO ONE IS READING THIS!

[zegalba]

Yohji Yamamoto

"Let me talk like an old man. Young people, be careful. Beautiful things are disappearing every day. Be careful. You don't need to be [shopping at fast-fashion stores], especially young people. They are beautiful naturally, because they are young. So they should even wear simple jeans and a T-shirt. It's enough. Don't be too much fashionable. The brand advertising is making you crazy. You don't need to be too sexy. You are sexy enough."

[so-true-overdue]

The Allure of the Absurd: A Journey into the Abyss of Misinformation

In a world where the truth is as elusive as a chameleon in a kaleidoscope, the seduction of misinformation is nothing short of an art form. Welcome to the grand theater of the absurd, where reality is but a mere suggestion, and the puppeteers of deception pull the strings with unparalleled finesse.

The Siren Song of the Uninformed

Misinformation, much like a siren’s song, lures the unsuspecting into its treacherous embrace. It is a symphony of half-truths and fabrications, orchestrated to perfection by those who revel in the chaos of confusion. The human psyche, ever so susceptible to the allure of the novel and the sensational, finds itself ensnared in this web of deceit with alarming ease.

The Cult of the Credulous

Enter the realm of the cult, where misinformation is not merely a tool but a doctrine. Here, the architects of illusion craft narratives so compelling that they render the implausible plausible. The cult thrives on the credulity of its adherents, who, in their quest for belonging and certainty, surrender their faculties of critical thought at the altar of dogma.

The Invisible Chains of Belief

Recognizing one’s entrapment in the labyrinth of misinformation is a Herculean task. The chains that bind are not of iron but of ideology, invisible yet unyielding. The cognitive dissonance that arises when confronted with the possibility of deception is a formidable adversary, often leading the misled to double down on their convictions rather than question them.

The Enlightenment of Skepticism

Yet, all is not lost in this dystopian landscape of delusion. The antidote to the poison of misinformation lies in the cultivation of skepticism and the relentless pursuit of knowledge. To question, to probe, to demand evidence—these are the hallmarks of the enlightened mind, impervious to the seductive whispers of falsehood.

A Call to Intellectual Arms

In this battle for truth, the onus falls upon each of us to arm ourselves with the tools of discernment. Engage with diverse perspectives, scrutinize sources with a critical eye, and foster an environment where inquiry is not only encouraged but celebrated. The war against misinformation is not won in grand gestures but in the quiet, persistent acts of intellectual vigilance.

Conclusion: The Triumph of Truth

In conclusion, while the path to truth is fraught with peril, it is a journey worth undertaking. The triumph of truth over falsehood is not merely a victory for the individual but for society as a whole. Let us, therefore, march forward with unwavering resolve, for in the end, it is the light of truth that shall illuminate the darkest corners of ignorance.

[strawberry-garbage]

Is this AI

[uspiria]

Eat the Schoolgirl: Osaka Telephone Club (1997) dir. Naoyuki Tomomatsu

[strawberry-garbage]

[strawberry-garbage]

far far in the future, when all of the earths living beings have travelled to space and have been incinerated by some dying star, drifting back through the spent and feeble atmosphere as soft black ash onto its surface, coating the entire planet in a thick layer of what was once life, the rocks and the metals and the sands and the bricks of the buildings can feel what was once there and they mourn and feel resentful, for even lifeless things can have their hearts broken. the ash coats the once powerful cities that were once full of people, and as the many thousands of years pass without a single footprint laid upon it, without a drop of rain (because of course water is more precious now than gold ever was), the ash becomes as much a part of the landscape as the trees and the ocean once were. the buildings rise out of the earth like giant black mushrooms, their forms softened by their coating of ash. it is on this earth that the first scavengers arrive. they are the humans that escaped in the first few exoduses from the dying planet, establishing colonies on nearby habitable worlds. why everyone didn't follow them comes down to what it always has: someone had control of that resource and didn't want to see it given freely away, even for a reason as supposedly noble as ensuring the future of the human race. that, and the people loved their planet, and remembered what it had once been, how beautiful its air and water and land were and they didn't want to leave their home behind. they wanted to ride out the storm, no matter what that would mean.

she appeared out of seemingly thin air, and it was thin air too, not robust enough for her body which had until that point only breathed when surrounded by trees, when the rain still fell from the sky and washed the dust away, when things were good. she woke up gasping, the filthy air choking her unaccustomed body.

[strawberry-garbage]

I scratched somebody’s fucking Benz I have to kill myself

[strawberry-garbage]

I can

See inside

Everybody’s brain!

[strawberry-garbage]

This was during the part of the hangout with the large extended group of friends from highschool when I got kind of quiet and started eavesdropping and wondering why I can’t make conversation the way they can

I kept saying strange things and they were not received the way I wanted them to be lol

Nothing like your period in your childhood home to make you fucking tweak I stg

[zegalba]

Artwork by Hideaki Kawashima

[clawmarks]

Specimens of printing types cast - Bruce’s (George) Son and Company - 1848 - via Internet Archive

[strawberry-garbage]

I can

See inside

Everybody’s brain!

[strawberry-garbage]

the only thing I want is for someone to sit on my bed and let me explain the origin of literally every single item I own to them

[strawberry-garbage]

EVERY MEMORY IS AN IMPORTANT MEMORY

[strawberry-garbage]

the only thing I want is for someone to sit on my bed and let me explain the origin of literally every single item I own to them

[strawberry-garbage]

Going through all our stuff in the attic used to feel like treasure hunting but now I am tall enough to hit my head on the ceiling (I have been for a long time because the ceiling is fucking low and slanted and has a beam in the middle) and I look around and all I can see is how ugly everything is

ugly in the pure sense of the word, as in UGLY, not as in bad

my mother just doesn't have very good visual taste which is fine

nothing is pink

of course I love her anyway lol

[strawberry-garbage]

Everything we own came from the thrift store or off the street or was given to us or bought at like TJ max 15 years ago or acquired in some otherwise extremely cheap way lol

I think a person's relationship with the things they own is so interesting and personal and barely ever talked about except through the lens of like overconsumption

and even in that way its never really examined in a personal way, its more just like 'people shop too much and eat too much macdonalds!!'

its also not because we can't afford to have nice things lol

its just that my mother would rather go on a trip or pay for my college or save money or donate it because she's a good person

and also of course it is silly to spend a lot of money on stupid shit that doesn't really matter

but having beautiful things and things that visually appeal to you is I believe a real net positive in your life because the amount of very real pleasure and satisfaction that I get when things are beautiful to me is extremely important to me and not a feeling I would want to give up!

[strawberry-garbage]

Going through all our stuff in the attic used to feel like treasure hunting but now I am tall enough to hit my head on the ceiling (I have been for a long time because the ceiling is fucking low and slanted and has a beam in the middle) and I look around and all I can see is how ugly everything is

ugly in the pure sense of the word, as in UGLY, not as in bad

my mother just doesn't have very good visual taste which is fine

nothing is pink

of course I love her anyway lol

[strawberry-garbage]

EVERYTHING I HAVE EVER OWNED IS BECOMING A RELIC OF MY CHILDHOOD I CANT DO THIS

[i-used-to-be-a-spy]

"you should be at the club" I should be working on my fanfic