@til-the-darkness-claims-us I thought that was til as in today I learned
@humm-bird haha nope
*buzzer sounds* that is incorrect
@til-the-darkness-claims-us I thought that was til as in today I learned
@humm-bird haha nope
*buzzer sounds* that is incorrect
not caring if people think you're stupid is a life hack. recognising that you are kind of stupid is an even bigger life hack. we build entire societies to take care of each other bc we're all kind of stupid. it's fine.
Anonymous asked:
*pulls flask out of jacket and takes a sip*
"Sir, drinking is not allowed here"
"This is vanilla extract"
strange-aeons answered:
vanilla extract is 40% alcohol you are wasted sir
“Oops my bad“
*pulls out second flask filled with food colouring*
I wish you could speed up things irl
Yk watch chickens bob around at 10x speed
Hungry? Speed it up then you have an instant sandwich
Watch a plane take off like one of those pump rockets that you had as a kid
I love that queer can mean 'I don't know what I am'. I love that queer can mean 'it's none of your business what I am'. And i love that queer can mean 'I know exactly what I am, but it's a long list that I don't feel like reciting every time'.
I love that queer can mean ‘I don’t care what I am I just want to exist as myself’ I love that queer ca mean ‘I am allowing myself the freedom to be who I want’ I love that queer can mean ‘I am breaking every rule in the book’
the only normal reaction to hearing about a celebrity break up is to think “aw that’s sad for them” and then move on with your life IT DOES NOT MATTER
Tuesday March 21.
Today is a celebration—but perhaps, like all celebrations, just what we are commemorating is something that we must treasure each and every day. Poetry, some might say, is just that: the treasure that artists mine from the sham and drudgery of day-to-day life. For the poet, their art is found not by searching for the exotic, mysterious, glamourous, or seductive, but by what they find before them. What is mundane and routine is as much material to be mined as life's intensities or spectacles. For the poet, the world really is their oyster. And for the rest of us, the work they produce is that very pearl. And every shade of experience, whether joy, grief, banality, intrigue, and beauty, are encapsulated in words, spaces, silence, images, and form. Whether by skill, or by chance, no one really knows, but perhaps the mess and the mystery are one and the same as its profundity. With that in mind, let's celebrate a good thing. And a good thing that is ours each and every day. It's #world poetry day.
With that in mind, we invite you to mark the day here on Tumblr. After all, there is simply no better community of poets and artists who make up this creative sphere, and the evergreen world of all things poetry is, well, your world.
And when all is said and done, you better get writing x
Cupid is a fisher
They spear me in the back
Then twist.
They yank out the arrows
Leaving me tied to them
In a hideous pull of heartstrings
Of broken trust
And unearned love
Cupid is a hunter
But I will not become a trophy
I’m not your prized possession
I own you
That love is just an illusion
ok but we talk all the time about soulmates why can’t we have a soul family?? Like I love my friends but I could not be soul mates with a single person forever, like is it not more romantic to believe that we all have a little community that is destined for us, and a little home in these soul-people?