invisibletripwire

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Hey boss man can't come in to work today. I'm just not feeling the love. You know how it is. Not feeling the love. At all

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It seems like the older I get, the more irrationally angry casual censorship makes me. And it isn't just the "unalive" "grape" alleged filter-dodging vernacular, but the way normal words will be peppered with asterisks, or screenshots will have words like "gay" "hell" "fuck" etc either partially or entirely blurred. Who is this helping? What is the purpose of it, except to reinforce shame and elevate a flimsy perception of purity and safety, however those things manifest. It's so tiresome and I'm sick of it.

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my glasses are always dirty but it's fine. i've seen enough.

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Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World (2003)

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Spring's Promise c1925 By Marjorie Miller Estes (1899-1995)

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How does one improve in anatomy?

draw porn of ur oc

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scrap book, april 2017

shop: suhaylah.bigcartel.com instagram: @suhaylah.h

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Not to vent but: fuck

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Flowers greet the night, Torino, Italy

emanuele_boffa

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height check. how tall are you people in my phone

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i will find lesbians in any piece of media

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Fantasy notes (KRONOR / KORONY) designed for SWEDEN.

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Emily Dunlap

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The world feels heavier these days. War and hate creep further into places once thought safe, and destruction—of forests, of lives, of hope—seems to be the one thing we’ve truly mastered. Whether it's bombs falling or ancient trees cut down or love denied out of fear or ignorance, the ache of it all is relentless. I won’t pretend I’m above it. Most days, I feel it in my bones. The despair. The helplessness. The creeping sense that we are losing something we won’t be able to get back.

But today, I did what I often do when it’s too much: I took my camera and went to the forest. I sat on a rock, as I’ve done so many times before, heart heavy with doubt. And then, from the green hush beside me, came a soft chirp. I turned, and there she was—a tiny fledgling robin, newly launched into the world. She didn’t know anything of war or hate or vanishing trees. She only knew that I was there, strange and still, and worth a closer look.

She hopped and fluttered from branch to branch, curious and bold in the way only young creatures can be. And in that brief moment, there were no headlines, no grief, no fear. Just a small bird being a bird. And me, being a person. Quietly alive.

I know her life will be hard. So will mine. So will yours, perhaps. But for that moment, the world paused, and there was joy. And I thought—yes. I can live another day. I hope you can too. European Robin/rödhake. Värmland, Sweden (June 22, 2025).

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when i look up a knitting term, the last thing I want is an ai overview. I want a 60+ year old woman with no understanding of lighting or helpful camera angles who still manages to give the most concise and clear explanation of how to execute purl 2tog through the backloop. ai summary fuck off, where is phyllis?

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The real reason why you need to be social is the best chinese place within 10 miles is an unknown hole in the wall with a yearly marketing budget of $15 dollars and you will never, ever find it unless someone tells you about it.

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1 second of every star trek tos episode enjoy