Call me GalePanromantic/Asexual, any pronouns except it, Gender flux I promise I’m still alive even when I vanish from here for months on endI never fucking update my bio but I decided I hated my old one so this is something that shouldn’t age horriblyYou’ll see stuff I think is neat and other random hyper fixations because of my adhdI’m a disaster, but I’m doing okayish In case the username has you wondering, I’m not a furry, the name is something I never bothered to change because it’s what I use for multiple platforms and I made it when I really like Warriors so \(^-^)/ whoopee I guessI’m just kinda vibin, I guess
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I think I may never be sad ever again. There is a statue entitled "Farewell to Orpheus" on my college campus. It's been there since 1968, created by a Prof. Frederic Littman that use to work at the university. It sits in the middle of a fountain, and the fountain is often full of litter. I have taken it upon myself to clean the litter out when I see it (the skimmers only come by once a week at max). But because of my style of dress, this means that bystanders see a twenty-something on their hands and knees at the edge of the fountain, sleeves rolled up, trying not to splash dirty water on their slacks while their briefcase and suit coat sit nearby. This is fine, usually. But today was Saturday Market, which means the twenty or so people in the area suddenly became hundreds. So, obviously, somebody stopped to ask what I was doing. "This," I gestured at the statue, "is Eurydice. She was the wife of Orpheus, the greatest storyteller in Greece. And this litter is disrespectful." Then, on a whim, I squinted up at them. "Do you know the story of Orpheus and Eurydice?" "No," they replied, shifting slightly to sit.
"Would you like to?"
"Sure!"
So I told them. I told them the story as I know it- and I've had a bit of practice. Orpheus, child of a wishing star, favorite of the messenger god, who had a hard-working, wonderful wife, Eurydice; his harp that could lull beasts to passivity, coax song from nymphs, and move mountains before him; and the men who, while he dreamed and composed, came to steal Eurydice away. I told of how she ran, and the water splashed up on my clothes. But I didn't care. I told of how the adder in the field bit her heel, and she died. I told of the Underworld- how Orpheus charmed the riverman, pacified Cerberus with a lullaby, and melted the hearts of the wise judges. I laughed as I remarked how lucky he was that it was winter- for Persephone was moved by his song where Hades was not. She convinced Hades to let Orpheus prove he was worthy of taking Eurydice. I tugged my coat back on, and said how Orpheus had to play and sing all the way out of the Underworld, without ever looking back to see if his beloved wife followed. And I told how, when he stopped for breath, he thought he heard her stumble and fall, and turned to help her up- but it was too late. I told the story four times after that, to four different groups, each larger than the last. And I must have cast a glance at the statue, something that said "I'm sorry, I miss you--" because when I finished my second to last retelling, a young boy piped up, perhaps seven or eight, and asked me a question that has made my day, and potentially my life: "Are you Orpheus?" I told the tale of the grieving bard so well, so convincingly, that in the eyes of a child I was telling not a story, but a memory. And while I laughed in the moment, with everyone else, I wept with gratitude and joy when I came home. This is more than I deserve, and I think I may never be sad again.
Here is the aforementioned statue, by the way.
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the tiktok itself is funny but i’m deeply obsessed with this dog





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i don't know where this came from
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Who else up thinking about bjj black belt craig jones saying You can give anyone steroids. Despite our best efforts we are yet to give anyone autism.
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on being yourself
@ brainsoupp_ on twitter// @stmichaelthearchangel// @ cybermrcury on twitter// @throughmy-eyez // @ shellerina on twitter// @caesarsaladinn// @ nelsoncj4 on twitter // @ heimberg_a on twitter// make your own kind of music by cass elliot// @ soledadfrancis on twitter// ? // @ sourcenectar on twitter// @superorganism
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warm baked goods are insane. something so beautiful and almost maddening about absolutely tearing into them when they’re fresh. feeling warm all over after. I really do get vampires for real
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This is the funniest tweet I’ve ever seen.
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oh so civil war guys can reenact their battles but when i, a 9/11 enthusiast
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I need y'all to watch this clip
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very strange phenomenon now that many people have learned online not to pet service dogs is that they walk by little bird and me, wave their hands at little bird, and say in a baby voice "oooohh you're so cute! you're so cute! i'm not going to pet you because i know you're working! ooohhhh puppy puppy puppy, i want to pet you but i'm not allowed~" and i have to tell them what they're doing is literally as distracting as petting her. this happens almost every single time i'm out with her.
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