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Claire Keane

oozey mess

⁂
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
hello vonnie
Cosimo Galluzzi
Xuebing Du
occasionally subtle
Cosmic Funnies

Kaledo Art

Discoholic 🪩
cherry valley forever
tumblr dot com
$LAYYYTER

#extradirty
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Mike Driver

roma★

titsay
Not today Justin

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@transitoryenchantedmoment
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I think a surprising amount of writers don’t realize that tragedies are supposed to be cathartic. They’re intended to result in a purging of emotion, a luxurious cry; the sorrow caused by a great tragedy is akin to fear caused by a good horror movie – it’s a “safe” sorrow, one that is actually satisfying to the audience. It can still be beautiful! It’s isn’t supposed to just be salting the earth so nothing can grow.
But that’s how you get grimdark: writers who don’t realize that they’re supposed to be doing something with the audience instead of to the audience.
♔ starkswaters asked: Jack Sparrow or Will Turner
“I went to college, I was 18 years old, I looked like I was 11. I lived like a goddamn Ninja Turtle. I didn’t drink water the entire time. I lived on cigarettes and alcohol and Adderall.”
John Mulaney: Kid Gorgeous at Radio City (2018)
We all have our secrets.
There was no in between for him. It was either all or nothing.
insp.
and if there’s a reason i’m still alive when everyone who’s loved me has died
i’m willing to wait for it i’m willing to wait for it
tremble for yourself, my man you know that you have seen this all before
Today I had my niece read Aaron and Alexander (Don Brown) to me and learned that Alexander Hamilton was nicknamed Little Lion.
The holy grail of searching through academic literature is coming across a string of publications that are like:
Here’s An Idea. Smith et al. 2016
Terrible Idea; a comment on Smith et al. 2016. Johnson 2016.
You’re Wrong Too; a response to Johnson 2016. Nelson 2016.
Guys Just Stop Fighting, None Of Us Know What’s Going On; a Review of the Current Literature. McBrien 2017.
Not even an exaggeration.
I wish none of this had happened.
One name changed it all.
Draco, much like his parents, did not choose which family to be born to. He did not choose the beliefs his parents would then attempt to instill in him throughout his childhood. Draco is very much a victim of circumstance.
Look around, isn’t this enough? What would be enough?
I can’t be a wizard
There are some things that time cannot mend. Some hurts that go too deep…
In This Light
by Carl Phillips
Sure, I used to say his name like a truth that, just by saying it aloud, I could make more true, which makes no more sense than having called it sorrow, when it was only the rain making the branches hang more heavily, so that some of them, sometimes, even touched the ground…I see that now. I can see how easy it is to confuse estrangement with what comes before that, what’s really just another form of being lost—lost, and trying to spell out wordlessly, hand-lessly, the difference between I fell and Sir, I’m falling. As for emptiness spilling where no one ever wanted it to, and becoming compassion, as for how that happens—What if all we do is all we can do? What if longing, annihilation, regret are all this life’s ever going to be, a little music thrown across and under it, ghost-song from a cricket-box when the last crickets have again gone silent, now, or be still forever, as the gathering crowd, ungathering, slowly backs away?
The King beneath the mountains The King of carven stone The lord of silver fountains Shall come into his own