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wish I can wipe my memory after season finale

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Conceptual art furniture by Ai Weiwei at Seattle Art Museum, 2025

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I wish depression were an emergency. I wish someone could take one look at how sick I am and go “oh my god, we need to get you to a hospital!” and then when we get there I get rushed into surgery and the surgeons say “it’s a good thing you brought her here when you did, this is a seriously advanced case” and then they put me under and spend the next ten hours pulling metres of long, sticky black strands of gunk out of my body, throwing it immediately into an incinerator so that it can’t infect anyone else. And then they could stitch me back up and I could rest a few days, and when I leave the hospital everyone can see how much better I am and they congratulate me saying “well done, you’ve been so brave, I’m so glad you’re ok. I love you.”

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there is still time. there is still time. until your bones are in the fucking ground there is still time.

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born to be a 90s teenager working at blockbuster, who recommends customers the weirdest goriest horniest movie they have ever seen. forced to post on letterboxd.

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body hair is hot, stretch marks are hot, big/ prominent noses are hot, crooked teeth are hot, tummies are hot. not in a 'you can have these things and be hot despite it' but in a these things make someone specifically extremely hot type of way. can anyone hear me. im going insane

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My interpretations of a Jackalope and Skvader!

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Hey, man, c'mere. Listen. Get in real close, this is important.

You're gonna make stuff again. You're gonna make stuff you're proud of. You're gonna make stuff you're excited to share. You're going to feel that overwhelming drive to create, not just the frantic I want to want to you're stuck in now. You're going to have awesome ideas, and you're going to make them into reality. You're going to create again. You're still an artist. You're still a writer. You're still home to the same passion you had before. You'll find it again. It's not gone. It's just resting. Let it rest. You're going to make stuff again. I promise.

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flirted with someone last night and hoo boy am I out of my element

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AUGUST IS OVER??????

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'just patch up ur own socks' 'just alter the html code urself' 'just mod it in urself' 'just learn to draw it yourself' 'just learn how to cobble shoes in ur free time' 'just /make ur own clothes/ after work' im sick and tired of using my precious labor to compensate for capitalism's failures

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fuck it, i'm curious. reblog and tag with the first fictional death to ever rewrite your brain chemistry and/or make you cry like a baby. mine was ares from the underland chronicles (who, for context, was a giant bat.) to this day i will weep if i think too hard about it. okay, go.

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These nuts fullmetal

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man of progress

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