#b--ae

[spoopieere]

*Falls out of my pocket - aw fuck

I hate his STUPID cracker ass

[sacredandprofaneajourney]

It’s difficult to adequately express how I feel about this poem. Written by my daughter, for me it is almost beyond comprehension to understand a time in her life when getting out of bed each day was a challenge. To watch her blossom, heal, and come back to life, this speaks volumes to her resilience and fortitude, and most importantly, the gift of self forgiveness.

When the Earth Colors Itself Back In

If not for winter’s long and hollow breath,

the darkened dawns, the bone-deep chill,

how would we ever learn to marvel

at the way the earth remembers color?

The light returns not all at once,

but tenderly — as if the sun,

half shy, half sure,

lifts the veil from morning’s face.

Soft upon our skin, it lingers,

warming the places frost forgot,

filling our lungs with air reborn.

We were never meant for endless cold,

nor for days sealed shut in shadow.

Easter comes like a quiet guest,

slipping through the thawing soil

to remind us:

the seeds we buried in yesterday’s ground

never stopped believing in bloom.

Even the dimmest spring morning

outshines the proudest winter noon.

Even the barest tree hums a brighter song

than silence ever could.

And four months past the glittered noise

of Christmas fires and ribboned gifts,

this day returns to us — simple, unadorned,

a day that asks not for more, but for meaning.

No hands must shape it the same,

no hearts must hold it alike.

There is no one path, no holier name,

only the quiet permission

to honor what is —

the turning, the soft unfurling,

the grace of beginning again.

Easter is the earth’s own whisper:

Thank you for staying, through the cold.

Thank you for trusting light would return.

And now that it has,

we are invited —

to sit with the light,

to marvel at the bloom,

to gather the quiet grace of this day,

and carry it gently,

tucked within us,

for when we meet winter once again.

B-

[mihyasnorthstar]

this guy . -w- or Whatever

[donghyuckkies]

fun fact: op did not survive making these giffies bonus:

[robobarbie]

when i was 13 i had my first love therewasnobodywhocomparedtomybabyandnobodycamebetweenusorcouldevercomeabove

she had me goin crazy

oh i was starstruck

she woke me up daily

dont need no starbucks (free palesTINE)

SHE MADE MY HEART POUND

ANDSKIPABEAT WHENISEEHERONTHESTREET

AND

AT SCHOOL ON THE PLAYGROUND

BUTIREALLYWANNASEEHERONTHEWEEKEND

[livejournallegacy]

Geoff Rickly and Tom Keeley during the recording of Thursday's demos

From Kill The House Lights

[shiningwizard]

Sinners (Ryan Coogler, 2025)

Put this in the maybe it's me pile. Either i have to get a mind for comic books/video games or horror (=> genre) movies need to stop aiming so palpably and administratively at "elevation" and actually achieve elevation the way they're meant to, through risk, weirdness, shock, texture, a drive to entertain not placate, trust, etc. This became promising when it became stupid, but then became too stupid to hold that promise.

[trainforanother1000years]

im sorry this is what my first thought was