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tumblr on the computer is actually so transcendent i feel that very few understand this anymore... this was the way that your ancestors blogged.
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beautiful women named extreme heat warning keep blowing up my phone
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[said with increasing amount of distress] i got this i got this i got this i got this i got this i got this i got this i got this i got this i got this i got this i got this i got this i got this i got this i got this i got this i got this i got this
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I open Tumblr. I post something that should be a diary entry. I close Tumblr. I open Tumblr after having it closed for 1.2 minutes. I reblog 176 posts in a row. I add tags of absolute gibberish to 7 of those. I close Tumblr. I open Tumblr I post yet another should-be diary entry. I close Tumblr. I open tu
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reblogging a post that says “do it scared” vs actually doing it scared


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i made this blog when i was 15 and and now im 12 wtf
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I wish kinky sex ed wasn't so stigmatized even among left-leaning "sex positive" circles. Everyone's all "uwu I'm a sub I'll do anything you ask" okay mommy wants you to read The New Bottoming Book so you learn how to sub without hurting yourself since your sex ed up to this point is porn and your ex boyfriend Jared who liked to choke you incorrectly
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if you've ever used the London Underground you might have noticed that it often gets uncomfortably hot. the reason for this is actually that its builders dug too greedily & too deep and as a result the trains are very close to the fires of hell. hope that helps.
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never forget the universal rule of the order of things: People Will Not Read It
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I think I made this exact post before but every few months on social media someone will be like “OMGGGGGG I FOUND BONES BURIED IN MY CELLAR. I JUST CALLED THE COPS.” and the bones are so visibly (weathered) butchered cow bones or small animal bones. Not a single time is it a ‘they could be human…’ incident. Totally not the poster’s fault because I doubt the majority of people know human skeletal anatomy. Were people 120 years ago burying the remains of their barbecue rib dinner in the dirt floor of the cellar to freak people out in the future or something? No, but like, it seems like packing your walls and floors with trash was so common until like 30 years ago.
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everyone says you can always restart. that your future isn't forgotten, just sort of misplaced. they name actors and singers and authors who started at 46, 59. they cite chappell roan's 10 years. they tell you to push and push, that some day you'll open a door and the truth will be behind it.
but what if you aren't a celebrity in sheep's clothing. what if you're just a normal person. most people aren't exceptionally talented or else talent wouldn't be exceptional - right? what if you're just another median person; not ever startlingly bad nor terrifyingly good.
you put the shopping carts back and you walk your dog and you write poems on the internet. you have grown a plant or two; killed a few others. you did okay, overall, and you've been okay most of your life. not valedictorian, but you were a smart kid. you had some hard knocks, but you got up again. your life is just - average. you probably will never sing onstage at coachella. most of the time you are at peace with that - someone needs to drive the speed limit. life isn't about extraordinary circumstances, it's just about building a life you love and figuring out how to live in it.
but you would like to feel as if you'd found "the answer." everyone else seems to have some kind of talent they are born nesting in - and meanwhile you just exist. is that why you cycle through crafts and hobbies and activities like a roulette wheel? are you waiting for the moment where it turns out - all this time, you've been a visionary. a genius. all this time, you were special. even you: someone who has-never-been.
crawling up your throat: something bitter and savage. not quite a feeling of wasted potential. after all, you need to first have potential in order to waste it.
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there’s this extremely kind soul of a woman on instagram that makes accessible recipes that don’t require standing, chopping, or a stove and she might just have a permanent place in my heart




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i can't explain it, but the older you get, the more you realize that the hornier, filthier the music is, the better it is for cleaning. it is not good for sex. it's good for cleaning. if it's breathtakingly misogynistic? even better. i'm sorry, Hollywood Undead, i'm sure you think Everywhere I Go was written to fuck to while blown out on a couple lines of coke, but you're wrong. it's for Fabuloso and industrial grade cleaning vinegar and degreaser. the only daddy here is Scrub Daddy. sorry.
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