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we share a warriors bond (we were both in the same fandom at the same time and now neither of us are in that fandom anymore but we’re still beloved mutuals)

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You're about to close on your very own, suspiciously affordable and comfortable house. Just before you sign the contract, the realtor shows you the required legal disclosure: your new house is haunted by the type of presence you'll get from this spinner wheel.

Of course it is.

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Absolutely insane lines to just drop in the middle of an academic text btw. Feeling so normal about this.

[ A Critical History of English Literature, Vol. 1, Prof. David Daiches, first published in 1960 ]

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Bruce Springsteen ↳ I'm on Fire (Paris, 1985)

[ID: Two black and white gifs of Bruce Springsteen from the side as he sings "Sometimes it's like someone took a knife, baby, edgy and dull / And cut a six-inch valley through the middle of my skull". /end ID.]

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Forget about torturing your blorbos, putting them through the wringer. I'm putting my blorbo in perfectly ordinary, pleasant situations. Their tortured personality will cause them anguish anyway, making an absolutely mundane scene into the most dramatic, agony filled affair as though the world is ending and it's all their fault

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broth is like if water was a milf

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at the club fucked up on kerrygold pure irish butter

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Hey, so, I don't know how many of you follow Canadian news, but yesterday, someone drove a car into the crowd at a Filipino cultural festival in Vancouver. I'm sorry that I can't put that more sensitively, but I really don't know how else to describe it. I'm not Filipino, but it happened in the neighborhood I grew up in. I'm not sure how to describe how I feel. I'd walked past the event an hour before with some friends. We'd joked about how the first nice weekend in Vancouver is a special occasion because everyone comes out. There's a vigil on that corner tonight.

The point of this isn't to talk about how I feel. A friend has shared some gofundmes with me and I wanted to post them here. And ask that maybe if you're local and you're able to, could you donate blood? I don't know. I don't have anything I can say. It's not my tragedy but I feel it anyway. If you can donate, I know it would be appreciated by the families.

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-bring-rowel-home (goal reached but more funds always help)

https://www.gofundme.com/f/rizza (almost at 50%)

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Waiting for Happiness

Dog knows when friend will come home because each hour friend’s smell pales, air paring down the good smell with its little diamond. It means I miss you O I miss you, how hard it is to wait for my happiness, and how good when it arrives. Here we are in our bodies, ripe as avocados, softer, brightening with latencies like a hot, blue core of electricity: our ankles knotted to our calves by a thread, womb sparking with watermelon seeds we swallowed as children, the heart again badly hurt, trying and failing. But it is almost five says the dog. It is almost five.

Nomi Stone in Tin House, Summer 2018

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After great pain, a formal feeling comes – (372)

After great pain, a formal feeling comes – The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs – The stiff Heart questions ‘was it He, that bore,’ And ‘Yesterday, or Centuries before’? The Feet, mechanical, go round – A Wooden way Of Ground, or Air, or Ought – Regardless grown, A Quartz contentment, like a stone – This is the Hour of Lead – Remembered, if outlived, As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow – First – Chill – then Stupor – then the letting go –

Emily Dickinson

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“what’s the song of the summer” ?? it’s DANCING IN THE DARK by bruce springsteen for the 41st year in a row

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The Copper Beech

Immense, entirely itself, it wore that yard like a dress, with limbs low enough for me to enter it and climb the crooked ladder to where I could lean against the trunk and practice being alone. One day, I heard the sound before I saw it, rain fell darkening the sidewalk. Sitting close to the center, not very high in the branches, I heard it hitting the high leaves, and I was happy, watching it happen without it happening to me.

Marie Howe What the Living Do, 1997

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i went to tautology island and everyone there was there

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gripping onto the edges of calm by making a list and blaring the passing measures by David Lang at an inadvisable volume :)

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[images are two screenshots of articles by Johannes van Oort. The first is titled: 'Human Semen Eucharist' Among the Manichaeans? The Testimony of Augustine Reconsidered in Context.' The second: 'Another Case of Human Semen Eucharist Among the Manichaeans?']

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Do me a favour and reblog this with a show you like that was cancelled after only one season. I don't mean shows that were always meant to be miniseries or shows that work perfectly well as a standalone story, or shows that might still get renewed. I mean shows that are and will forever remain unfinished. The more obscure the better.