As a kid, I wasn’t allowed to touch the hot stove with my bare hands. But now I get to do it whenever I want
One Nice Bug Per Day
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
h
dirt enthusiast
Jules of Nature
TVSTRANGERTHINGS

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Janaina Medeiros
NASA

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Discoholic 🪩

oozey mess
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
🪼
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

shark vs the universe
RMH
d e v o n

@theartofmadeline

Andulka

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@verdanturf
As a kid, I wasn’t allowed to touch the hot stove with my bare hands. But now I get to do it whenever I want
there’s a darkness on the edge of town
I want you all to imagine with me, if you will, what I witnessed today.
McDonalds parking lot. teenage boy. giant polished white ford Tundra. windows down. blasting. I mean BLASTING. Beethoven's moonlight sonata. boy demolishing burger.
White Boy Summer
good morning
Under communism the wait staff will not ask if Pepsi is okay. You will not even find out that's its Pepsi instead of coke until you take your first sip. Unless you train like me, to know the difference from the sound of the Fizz alone, that is the only way we can beat communism and I can teach you. Take my hand. Not like that you grabbed it gay. Stop. Giggles. I SAID STOP
i think this is…actually the most extreme stupid dove nest I’ve seen.
video
its vague malaise friday everyone give it up for vague malaise!!
i feel like im pretentious about repression or whatever like oh they can identify and name their repressed desires thats like the boring level one repression wheres the level of repression where they cant even begin to contemplate their own desires because contemplating them is a slippery slope to actually having desires which is a slippery slope to everything
you know what is so funny about this picture? Both of these bitches are going THROUGH IT one of them is actively suicidal and the other has a scalpel in her pocket. and yet they stay silly.
im majoring in making my life a living hell at idiot university
when you keep yourself small all the time (swallowing the words you want to say, seeing everybody else as though they’re automatically above you, downplaying your feelings and achievements), the entire world will constantly be looming over you. that’s not the way to live your life. you’re supposed to be experiencing it, not be subjected to it. (this is your sign to take up more space)
can't believe the only options are 30 minutes early or 10 minutes late. if only there were some other way. but what can you do
“[after a half-hearted suicide attempt at age 13] When Daddy comes in, he carries you to bed. Is there anything you feel like you could eat, Pokey? Anything at all? All you can imagine putting in your mouth is a cold plum, one with really tight skin on the outside but gum-shocking sweetness inside. And he and your mother discuss where he might find some this late in the season. Mother says hell I don’t know. Further north, I’d guess. The next morning, you wake up in your bed and sit up. Mother says, Pete, I think she’s up. He hollers in, You ready for breakfast, Pokey. Then he comes in grinning, still in his work clothes from the night before. He’s holding a farm bushel. The plums he empties onto the bed river toward you through folds in the quilt. If you stacked them up, they’d fill the deepest bin at the Piggly Wiggly. Damned if I didn’t get the urge to drive to Arkansas last night, he says. Your mother stands behind him saying he’s pure USDA crazy. Fort Smith, Arkansas. Found a roadside stand out there with a feller selling plums. And I says, Buddy, I got a little girl sick back in Texas. She’s got a hanker for plums and ain’t nothing else gonna do. It’s when you sink your teeth into the plum that you make a promise. The skin is still warm from riding in the sun in Daddy’s truck, and the nectar runs down your chin. And you snap out of it. Or are snapped out of it. Never again will you lay a hand against yourself, not so long as there are plums to eat and somebody-anybody-who gives enough of a damn to haul them to you. So long as you bear the least nibblet of love for any other creature in this dark world, though in love portions are never stingy. There are no smidgens or pinches, only rolling abundance. That’s how you acquire the resolution for survival that the coming years are about to demand. You don’t earn it. It’s given.”
— Mary Karr, “Cherry” (via lifeinpoetry)
“what’s the song of the summer” ?? it’s DANCING IN THE DARK by bruce springsteen for the 40th year in a row
Happy Dancing in the Dark by Bruce Springsteen Day to all who celebrate