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Pspspspsps. Hey.
Beloved mutuals. Followers. Friends. Complete strangers.
@memento-mariii / memento-mariii.tumblr.com
This too shall pass but like holy fuck
the sense of horror when you finish a book that was Ass Bad and you go to see what fellow haters are saying but all the reviews say it is the best thing they've ever read. feel like i just saw my reflection in the mirror move all by itself or something
William Darrell β "Ostara" (kinetic sculpture, 2023)
"You just gotta trust the process", says man working with no plan, no clear idea of what the ultimate outcome should look like, and even less of a clue about whether this is the way to achieve it.
"trust the process" I would if there was one
a good way to inspire yourself to do more is to see yourself as the wacky sitcom B plot character in your friends lives, "wouldnt it be funny to tell the friends in my phone about it." has gotten me to do anything from going to a festival (excelent) to wild camping (it went badly) (coastguard called) to trying to get the train to stonehenge (stonehenge costs money so i ended up just getting lunch in sailsbury, it was okay.) i bought a bicycle today and 20% of my reasoning was "itd be funny to surprise my roommate by coming home with a whole bike." . life is for living. and baby i live for the bit.
He looked at him. He looked at him in a different way. Blinked. He tilted his head. He looked at him sideways. Under his lashes. In a unique kind of tilt. In a violent sort of way. He stared at him in a kind of way you havenβt read about before. He sighed. He looked away. He looked at a different away. He stared. Considered. Pondered. He was silent but it was interesting, somehow. It was a questioning sort of silence. Puzzled. He was still. He went even more still. He was barely breathing. He was dead with anticipation. He tensed. He relaxed minutely. The seconds ticked by, silently. He waited. He narrowed his eyes. His eyes widened. He followed you with them. His eyes. He did something that was nothing but filled the required beat of a line. He
please please please please reblog if youβre a writer and have at some point felt like your writing is getting worse. I need to know if Iβm the only one whoβs struggling with these thoughts
Iβd like to live through a week thatβs not a whole new verse of βWe Didnβt Start the Fire.β
#dated three four years ago is really what makes this one#sorry op if you still have notifications on for this one#but hoo-wee did you hit on the sentiment of the decade
I do have notifications still on for this post because I love the sense of community it gives me. We're all just staring at each other blankly and occasionally screaming.
Also for the people who have post dates turned on and just go JESUS CHRIST FOUR YEARS AGO?!
May 2014: Senator Bill Heffernan complains about the lack of metal detectors in parliament, tabling a pipe bomb he's brought with him as evidence
someone questioned the quality of the image and thought it might be AI and I'm here to confirm this is real
Your first pride story was touching and all but you still married a man.
Yeah, bisexuals do that sometimes.
Just gonna reblog this again. For reasons.
OP's tags on this are worth posting too. Especially that last part. Read them again if you have to
biggest mindfuck is the fact that it can be so so difficult to tell the difference between when it's time for "do it bored/scared/stupid but by jove just do it" and when it's time for "if it sucks hit the bricks"
made a flowchart