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the human mind is prone to catastrophizing when left unoccupied. And that’s why it’s important to always have a little Blorbo to rotate in your head. It acts as a protective charm of sorts to redirect your imagination away from harmful spirals

thoughts without Blorbo: oh my god I was so cringe in seventh grade why did I do that

thoughts with Blorbo: I haven’t considered the interactions with bleebus; I must rectify this immediately

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It’s funny how sacabambaspis is like the funniest looking animal in every hypothetical except for that one picture that makes me feel like I’m about to be killed

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the kitchen objects watching me enjoy a meal of plain saltine crackers for the nth time

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necromancer princess who keeps the same knight around hundreds of years

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Go my scarab

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The modern Original Character Creator experience.

Denizens of tumblr, the answers you seek often lay in the tags or the image descriptions…

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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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Support me on PATREON or Ko-fi 💕

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artist tips

don’t save as jpeg

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Fear me

(via)

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Just saw a post that reminded me that when i was in the botanical gardens today there was a new sign with a photo of a cat and so clearly i was like oho? botanical garden mascot cat?? (mascat even) and went to see what the sign said and the sign said . See this cat? This cat is here all the time. she WILL beg you for pets. do not listen to her she is a fucking liar she will bite bite kill you. we do not own her. we do not know who owns her. if you know please fucking tell us. which is funny enough as like a sign purely because you know some botanical garden employees found this out the hard way but particularly funny because i MET THIS CAT WEEKS AGO. in the botanical gardens. she was sunning on a bench and very politely asked me for pets and was very nice for like ten minutes and then she bit me (not very hard, didn't break skin or anything) at which point i sternly told her well in that case i would not be petting her anymore and left and she followed me OUT of the gardens DOWN the street for a good bit, again shamelessly begging for pets. what an accomplished little criminal. neighborhood famous for lying and betrayal. god forbid women do anything

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This meme is inescapable on French insta so I'm posting it here for all to enjoy