choices made in anger is such a crazy image. if you know what i'm talking about
i'm gonna thrup

oozey mess
AnasAbdin
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

Love Begins
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Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

shark vs the universe
Xuebing Du
i don't do bad sauce passes
we're not kids anymore.
styofa doing anything
No title available
todays bird
noise dept.
Cosmic Funnies

blake kathryn
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

Andulka
Three Goblin Art
Jules of Nature

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@synarious
choices made in anger is such a crazy image. if you know what i'm talking about
i'm gonna thrup
PSA: quick at home electrolyte drink
if you're anything like me and you don't feel heat like you should, or you live in a normally not-hot area that's currently experiencing a heat wave, and/or you've been sipping plain water for hours and wondering why your throat is still dry and you're inexplicably exhausted, you probably need electrolytes.
in this situation your best line of defense is gatorade or some form of electrolyte tablet or powder. if you like those things, go get those things, this post is over.
BUT maybe you're also like me and you find gatorade unbearably sweet (it also gives me a headache, no idea why), and maybe you can't afford the fancy tablets or powders
if that describes you, I just did the following right here in my kitchen:
grab a big ol thermos/cold cup/giant glass of your choosing (i think mine holds 2 cups of liquid)
throw a pinch of salt in there and dissolve it in a lil bit of warm water
squeeze half a lemon in (or 1-2 tablespoons of store bought lemon juice. or lime, or orange, any citrus works tbh)
add 1-2 tablespoons of real maple syrup OR honey (maple syrup dissolves easier, honey will need a bit more warm water to melt it)
fill the rest with cold water
boom. poor man's gatorade, not too sweet, and within 20 minutes of sipping it my "mysterious" exhaustion is gone. i am very annoyed it was this easy to feel good again after languishing for hours wondering why the hell I was so tired and shaky. it was the electrolytes. it's 90 degrees out and I don't feel hot so I forgot. don't make my mistake. now go forth and hydrate!
on watching a parent age
i saw somebody say “what if you’re gone and i haven’t become anything yet” and basically that broke me on a random thursday evening
OP, this is genuinely a masterpiece, three poems in one, moving and well crafted. Please tell me you have submitted it to at least some poetry contests, and if not, please do so.
Lesser-known waifu: not Calvin's mom
The whole story is really cute btw ^w^
"live every day like it's your last": scary. weirdly foreboding. not a good thought process if you get anxious easily. stressful. so much pressure that it loops back around to making you do nothing. "live every day like it's your FIRST": everything becomes fascinating. renews the excitement of discovering things for the first time again. makes you feel like exploring stuff. #mywisdom
I'm coming to realize how vital it is to keep a running list of shit you did in the past few weeks so that you can participate in small talk. It's literally not anything to do with them being interesting at all it's just having Something to say to give people even the barest thing to hold on to. It's so you don't get into the "what have you been up to" "nothing much what about you" "yeah same" trap. Literally just say something.
What have you been up to? Um well it's getting warmer so I've been having to brush my cat every day.
Like no it's not that interesting of a thing to say. But now they can respond to it. They could say, man yeah it really is heating up, I've been trying to think of things to do inside more often. Or, oh you have a cat? What's their name?
Like. It's Something. All you need is Something. And if you're like me and your brain immediately goes blank upon entering small talk then keeping a list will help you remember things to say.
Not a big fan of what melatonin has been doing to my dreams lately.
KAT GIORDANO
How to Identify Emotionally Mature People, Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents, Lindsay C. Gibson,
yall see “love” and immediately go to “romantic love” if you translate “love is the whole point” to “romantic love is the whole point” you need to rethink everything because love is found in everything. in community, in friendships, in family, in food, in nature so actually love is the whole point and u can die mad about it. hope this helps <3
the truth is, a year actually has 730 days, not just the 365 they tell you about. for each and every day in each and every year, there actually exists a secret anti-day, a perverse reflection of the original. they sneak it into the calendar when you aren't looking. it passes in what feels like an instant, and slips out the door before you realize any time has passed at all. but if you keep your eyes open long enough you start to see the patterns. you start feel the weight of the hours passing. the chill that travels up your spine as you walk in the aberrant light cast by the pallid shadow-sun. strange, unfamiliar creatures prowl the streets during the anti-year, hiding between our days like ghosts between hazy memories. this is called "night"
Maruyama Ōkyo
Puppies, 1781 Ink and color on paper
“The truth is you already know what it’s like. You already know the difference between the size and speed of everything that flashes through you and the tiny inadequate bit of it all you can ever let anyone know. As though inside you is this enormous room full of what seems like everything in the whole universe at one time or another and yet the only parts that get out have to somehow squeeze out through one of those tiny keyholes you see under the knob in older doors. As if we are all trying to see each other through these tiny keyholes.
“But it does have a knob, the door can open. But not in the way you think…The truth is you’ve already heard this. That this is what it’s like. That it’s what makes room for the universes inside you, all the endless inbent fractals of connection and symphonies of different voices, the infinities you can never show another soul. And you think it makes you a fraud, the tiny fraction anyone else ever sees? Of course you’re a fraud, of course what people see is never you. And of course you know this, and of course you try to manage what part they see if you know it’s only a part. Who wouldn’t? It’s called free will, Sherlock. But at the same time it’s why it feels so good to break down and cry in front of others, or to laugh, or speak in tongues, or chant in Bengali–it’s not English anymore, it’s not getting squeezed through any hole.
“So cry all you want, I won’t tell anybody.”
-David Foster Wallace, Oblivion
maybe i'm just a portrait of all the people i've loved and nothing else tastes so bittersweet. a little dash of my ex-best friend in the way i walk and laugh. my scarf tied in a double knot for that beautiful stranger at the bus stop. a whisper of my mother and the sigh of a lover in the way i braid my hair. pockets full of fire and infinite regret like my dad or his dad or his dad. the tilt of my jaw, the curve of my smile, everything, everything is someone else. when they're all gone, my own reflection will be the biggest ghost i have.
you need to be earnest. you need to tell people that you love them. you need to speak on how you’re feeling honestly. you need to be sentimental. you need to stop letting the fear of other people laughing at you have so much control over how you express yourself. you need to get over yourself. you need to be embarrassing but true.
When a story goes yes life and the universe is fundimentally chaotic, uncaring, and meaningless in nature... but have you considered love? And hope? THAT'S when it gets me
There'll be a moment when you realise you're 27 when yesterday you were just 17; and you wouldn't be able to tell how a decade passed away and your life got divided into before and afters. The fury of youth will subdue and nothing will really change but everything will feel different when you look at old photographs and blurry videos taken on cheap mobile phones. Scents will remind you of childhood and certain friends you don't talk to anymore, hangouts will become reunions and mom's burnt pie will become the best food you ever had. And I know on some days you won't be able to show anything of those 10 years but I hope you remember to breathe, and let go of the knot in your chest. I hope you go out in the sun and live a little, because tomorrow is 37.
Edit- I added the visualizer for this piece on my YT, check it out here
-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The Flesh I Burned