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sage

@sage-blossoms / sage-blossoms.tumblr.com

no pronouns or they/them
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𝖮𝗂𝗅 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝗒 𝖨𝗏𝖺𝗇𝖺 𝖹̌𝗂𝗏𝗂𝖼́ ( 𝖻. 𝗂𝗇 𝟣𝟫𝟩𝟫 𝗂𝗇 𝖲𝖺𝗋𝖺𝗃𝖾𝗏𝗈)

OIL

PAINTING

He was as tall as he was tall, and his eyes were the color they were. To describe his hair one would say that he had some. His face had all the features you'd expect, and none of the ones you wouldn't. "There he is," people would often say of him, but only when he was there. And they were right.

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but i am sick of climbing / i am sick of crawling on hand and knees and scraping myself along the ground / i am sick of self-help skills and persistence and patience / i am sick of pushing myself and burning out and thrashing about hopelessly / i am sick of being a goldfish in a hot pan / i am sick of reinventing myself every season / i am sick of this feeling / i would claw this out of me if you gave me a sharp enough object / i am sick of feeling unsafe around sharp objects / i am sick of never finding an object sharp enough

i wish you knew the answer and could tell me and pour it down my throat until i gagged on it / i made my therapist cry when i said i had a lacking in me / i told her that a train could drive through the spaces i put into myself / the lacking is what does it, not the wanting, the lack, the dullness / barely-breathing with my teeth clacking in the cold water / it's the same fucking bridge it's the same dream and the same stupid kid / i wish sometimes i had drowned in that pool / i wish i had been different, not even that it was easier but just that i had enough strength to endure it / i wish it went away / i wish i had one good fucking reason

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tsotea-deactivated20210727

happy april fools. please take this egg

hahahahahha………………..

youve been fooled………………by the april fools beeper……………..it was a fully grown bird the entire time…..no egg………………it tells u it hopes u hav a good april 1st

I just queued this for a year

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Hi! This is a rickroll. Please visit youtube dot com, type "never gonna give you up" in the search bar, then click on the first video that comes up. Thank you for your consideration.

By talos

I thought I would give escapril a shot this year, using two-bees-poetry's prompt list. I will NOT be able to put something out every day, but I'm looking forward to having an excuse to get back into practice with poetry!

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why are time loops always only like 1 day long?

the real horror is a months or years long time loop. no speedrunning your torture here. you have to sit with the consequences of your actions for a loooong time before the release of knowing the consequences and actions have been erased.

but oh, all the actions and consequences are gone. those relationships you built? empty. you can never build them again without the constant guilt of knowing that it's not as real the second, third, thirtieth time when you already know all their secrets and they none of yours.

but you can't hide. you can't isolate yourself because what if this is the time the loop breaks and then what? years gone by of missed chances with people who have changed you a thousand times and now circumstances have changed. you can never build back what was washed away by your own inaction. they'll never be able to meet you like they did the first time if you don't choose to meet them the first time every time

Official Time Loop Post

You can never have the same child twice. How many loops does it take a grieving time traveller to accept that.

Are you an American? Do you love our nation's national parks, our libraries, affordable health care, and essential checks and balances? DO YOU NOT WANT TO GO TO WAR WITH CANADA?

Fuck, are you just a European and you're highly emotionally invested in what's going on?

Well good news, help spread the news. Special elections April 1st and this is going to help break down the narrow majority Republicans hold on Congress.

Florida has two congressional seats up for election April 1st, and Wisconsin has a highly televised race for their supreme court Court that Elon Musk has invested millions into.

If you're Floridian, check to see if you're eligible to vote in either of the elections listed here.

If you're a Wisconsinite, for some ungodly reasons about half of your election information is buried in Google and hidden amongst government websites but, find your polling place now.

there’s something endlessly hilarious to me about the phrase “hotly debated” in an academic context. like i just picture a bunch of nerds at podiums & one’s like “of course there was a paleolithic bear cult in Northern Eurasia” and another one just looks him in the eye and says “i’l kill you in real life, kevin”

I heard a story once about two microbiologists at a conference who took it out into the parking lot to have a literal fistfight over taxonomy. 

have i told this story yet? idk but it’s good. The Orangutan Story:

my american lit professor went to this poe conference. like to be clear this is a man who has a doctorate in being a book nerd. he reads moby dick to his four-year-old son. and poe is one of the cornerstones of american literature, right, so this should be right up his alley?

wrong. apparently poe scholars are like, advanced. there is a branch of edgar allen poe scholarship that specifically looks for coded messages based on the number of words per line and letters per word poe uses. my professor, who has a phd in american literature, realizes he is totally out of his depth. but he already committed his day to this so he thinks fuck it! and goes to a panel on racism in poe’s works, because that’s relevant to his interests.

background info: edgar allen poe was a broke white alcoholic from virginia who wrote horror in the first half of the 19th century. rule 1 of Horror Academia is that horror reflects the cultural anxieties of its time (see: my other professor’s sermon abt how zombie stories are popular when people are scared of immigrants, or that purge movie that was literally abt the election). since poe’s shit is a product of 1800s white southern culture, you can safely assume it’s at least a little about race. but the racial subtext is very open to interpretation, and scholars believe all kinds of different things about what poe says about race (if he says anything), and the poe stans get extremely tense about it.

so my professor sits down to watch this panel and within like five minutes a bunch of crusty academics get super heated about poe’s theoretical racism. because it’s academia, though, this is limited to poorly concealed passive aggression and forceful tones of inside voice. one professor is like “this isn’t even about race!” and another professor is like “this proves he’s a racist!” people are interrupting each other. tensions are rising. a panelist starts saying that poe is like writing a critique of how racist society was, and the racist stuff is there to prove that racism is stupid, and that on a metaphorical level the racist philosophy always loses—

then my professor, perhaps in a bid to prove that he too is a smart literature person, loudly calls: “BUT WHAT ABOUT THE ORANGUTAN?”

some more background: in poe’s well-known short story “the murder in the rue morgue,” two single ladies—a lovely old woman and her lovely daughter who takes care of her, aka super vulnerable and respectable people—are violently killed. the murderer turns out to be not a person, but an orangutan brought back by a sailor who went to like burma or something. and it’s pretty goddamn racially coded, like they reeeeally focus on all this stuff about coarse hairs and big hands and superhuman strength and chattering that sounds like people talking but isn’t actually. if that’s intentional, then he’s literally written an analogy about how black people are a threat to vulnerable white women, which is classic white supremacist shit. BUT if he really only meant for it to be an orangutan, then it’s a whole other metaphor about how colonialism pillages other countries and brings their wealth back to europe and that’s REALLY gonna bite them in the ass one day. klansman or komrade? it all hangs on this.

much later, when my professor told this story to a poe nerd friend, the guy said the orangutan thing was a one of the biggest landmines in their field. he said it was a reliable discussion ruiner that had started so many shouting matches that some conferences had an actual ban on bringing it up.

so the place goes dead fucking silent as every giant ass poe stan in the room is immediately thrust into a series of war flashbacks: the orangutan argument, violently carried out over seminar tables, in literary journals, at graduate student house parties, the spittle flying, the wine and coffee spilled, the friendships torn—the red faces and bulging veins—curses thrown and teaching posts abandoned—panels just like this one fallen into chaos—distant sirens, skies falling, the dog-eared norton critical editions slicing through the air like sabres—the textual support! o, the quotes! they gaze at this madman in numb disbelief, but he could not have known. nay, he was a literary theorist, a 17th-century man, only a visitor to their haunted land. he had never heard the whistle of the mortars overhead. he had never felt the cold earth under his cheek as he prayed for god’s deliverance. and yet he would have broken their fragile peace and brought them all back into the trenches.

my professor sits there for a second, still totally clueless. the panel moderator suddenly stands up in his tweed jacket and yells, with the raw panic of a once-broken man:

WE! DO NOT! TALK ABOUT! THE ORANGUTAN!

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