Discover Top Posts Tagged with #pollutography!

was walking yesterday and found these lovely nature pics!

aren’t they gorgeous?

#pollutography!#pollution #pollution good omens #thank you for the decoration #humanity!

#pollutography!#the third horseman #the boy in white

#the third horseman #the boy in white #pollutography!#pollution good omens

#pollutography!#the third horseman #the boy in white #pollution good omens

“A shining, scuffed up name badge on their sharp-edged messenger’s hat told Angelo that their name was… Chalky? Or maybe Albus. Hexxus, his eyes decided, was the name on the hat. It was a white thing that covered their eyes, though it was stained with splotches of all different substances. Little nuclear symbols were all over it. The brim, dangling with a charm-edged veil, covered their eyes. Their skin was a sickly shade of white, glistening with sweat and stains. Rough, smudged drawings covered their arms. A blue hospital mask covered their nose and mouth, though their speech was clear. Their ears were covered in tasteful piercings. Their stained white winter boots never made any noise other than a weird squelching sound, the fur peeking out the tops covered in mud and grime. They were hunched over in a dripping sort of way. Their top half was in layers: First, a black sweatshirt that had edges in the shape of drips, dangling off their arms by a good distance, then an equally large stained white tee with some sort of graphic design of a black crown surrounded by graffiti and symbols of toxic things, like smog and nuclear waste, and last a fish net top that covered even the sweatshirt and looked like it was made of a real fishnet, hooks attached onto the end and bits of plastic bottles and six ring holders attached to it. White, distressed cargo jeans seeped over the tops of their boots, dragging on the floor. They were just as stained and covered in patches, both decorative ones and squares of reparative fabric. Chains dangled from belt loops hidden beneath their sweatshirt. stained white gloves covered their hands, various ‘save the planet’esque bracelets around them. A scarf that could’ve honestly been any bit of ripped white fabric from a dump dangled off their bony shoulders. They oozed forward, grabbing a piece of crumpled paper and inspecting it. They tucked it in their bag, some expensive item modeled after a regular plastic bag. They looked anywhere between sixteen and early twenties, with a lanky figure that didn’t point towards any gender. Long white hair poured down their back, decorated with trash and hair clips” (Maloney-Jupiter, 2024.)