#Imnewtothis

[thatgeekygirl13]

writing a 1940s AU phanfic where Dan's a pianist and Phil's a literature professor and they meet at a hidden gay bar and its gay and cute and gross and all of it was inspired by the jazz song "The Thought of You" because im insane anyways here it is, ITSNOTFINISHEDPLEASEBENICE-

[spiritualkindarot]

[mulaneytime]

[merakidoll]

i got a weed pen and been high all weekend. #mymoutdry #imnewtothis

[actonescene4]

So I didn’t realize that trying to turn something you enjoy doing into more than just a hobby can become somewhat draining #imnewtothis #nottruetothis #burnout 😭

[wakiezzinc]

Diary entry 1

People have told me that memory worsens with age. I don’t think it’s Age’s fault. I think it’s Doubt, Regret, Fear, Shame, Sadness, Fragility, Anger and Desperation who do the worsening. And now I’m not scared of Age anymore. I’m scared of my own Feelings. My biggest fear is that all of those things I felt for you back then when you made me feel Love for the first time will somehow turn themselves around and try to destroy the image of you. You, dearest angel, will be turned into a devil. I’m prepared for death but I will never be prepared to make you villainous.

[climbedrightbackupthecliff]

thoughts

growing up is understanding why Margo left everything and everyone behind 

[ruedelapoulette]

*takes sharp breath in*

[amommyofthreex]

wow

still havent been to the fucking gym :)

struggled with a serotonin crash on monday after my birthday/valentines day weekend. is it sooo crazy to be continuously happy with no bad days? how does one accomplish such control? lemme tell yall how my weekend went.. 

[leafy--bab]

I thought I'd put a doodle I did of mothman on here um so here he be the mothy boi!

[sxzai]

i guess this is my take on Toy Bonnie as a human. i intended the pose to be narcissistic-y (?) but it came out, idk. either way tho, i really like it. if i get something wrong about a character (because i’ll post more of them later) let me know. plz. i’m really new to the fandom and haven't played fnaf yet, so i don’t know a lot of things about fnaf. anyways, i hope you like this!

[theworldofarchangel]

uncharted territory

im 21 going on 22 in about 2 weeks. Ive been having extra trouble getting out of bed in the morning lately event though i am unemployed. I thought that i would have money in the bank and at least a plan of execution. But, as i type this out im realizing that i have no one (besides old connections and my bf) to share these inner thoughts with in these times of extreme worldwide panic. What am i doing? Am i even going anywhere?

[buecherworm]

Barely remembered review #0

I always thought the feeling a book leaves you with is it's most important part. And I don't think you forget that. Even if you don't remember the protagonists name.

So I'll try to write some reviews for books I read some time ago. I'll write down what i remember of the plot, what the book left me with and most importantly what it felt like.

So stay tuned for barely remembered review number 1. Probably number9dream from david mitchell because, man, that book.

[mitunasleftbulge]

Wazzup faglords

Surprisingly, I’m new to Tumblr and have no fucking clue what in the hell I'm doing. 

sssooOOOOOO

    Guess this is my hello.  uhhh,,, yeah. 

[trashmouthrichietoizer-blog]

yo what’s up

[myemiamworld-blog]

Art. When you hear the word you think about sweeping brush strokes on canvases, idyllic sculptures in museums, magnificent photography of wanderlusty locations and brilliant strums of music notes rising into the atmosphere. 

I am none of that.

My sisters have a knack for it. One creates gorgeous calligraphy, rustic watercolors and makes a living composing classy interior spaces into realty. The other is an art student, swirling paint and pen into elegant portraits and flipping furniture into above and beyond DIY projects. I remember finding a life-sized realistic pencil drawing of a man in my grandparent’s upstairs bedroom as a kid, which my grandmother boasted of my father’s artistic talent. My mother has handiness in making any space look like a magazine catalog while still making it feel like home. 

I struggle to make circles and my life’s major artistic masterpiece thus far consists of a stiffly drawn cartoon dragon on what (I think?) is supposed to be a mountain. (No, I’m not going to post it).

I’ve been thinking about that cliche quote about beauty being in the eye of the beholder. I know I’m not the only person who has gone on an art museum tour and scratched their head over the oddies the architecture holds. No one ever understood Cruella DeVille’s idea of art - a spotted coat made from 101 Dalmatians’ pelts. A grotesque and probably overly political issue, but nevertheless, fashion is deemed to be art. Even now as I’m writing this, I’m dreaming about the rough first paragraph of this blog post I had written before my laptop untimely crashed and how it was so much more artsy it was than what I’m writing now. 

I’ve been thinking about art and I have come to a conclusion that most people will probably scoff at. But that’s okay, I’m not writing to impress anyone.

Life is art. It’s a simple concept, but one riddled with what I’ll refer to as public loopholes. There’s so many terrible things happening in the world right now. I’m not going to list them, I’m sure a few things already come to mind. But I think people forget that there’s beautiful and wonderful things in the world too. One could look at social media and technological advances as a hindrance or one big step back. But now people are able to connect to each other, create ideas, share them and collaborate. Terrible things happen and we have the power to fundraise, protest, lobby, etc. for things we believe in. We can share to the world what it’s like to live with a mental illness and we can fight to end the stigma. While some may say life now is a shadow of how things used to be, I don’t think that’s a bad thing. Life is dramatically changing, it’s not just a black and white photograph or a red and blue painting anymore. 

Do you ever have those days where you just get the tickling to clean? I’m not talking about wiping off counter tops, folding laundry or tidying up. I’m talking the deep clean. When your home has gotten so comfortable it starts to drive you insane type of clean. The kind of clean where you attack every pantry, closet, stain and smudge that dares enter your domain. The thing I’ve noticed about this deep clean process is your home goes from comfortable to a gigantic angry mess. You’re throwing out clothes, introducing yourself to foreign dust bunnies in unexplored corners and tearing apart every single aspect of your once preferred normal. Everything looks like a natural disaster solely focused on your domicile and decided to strike. Somewhere in the middle of your mad deep clean rampage you come to your senses (or your loved one comes home) and realize the horrific chaos around you. 

And that’s right now, ladies and gentlemen. 

The world seems like it’s going to fall apart. But maybe it’s just the beginning of something new. 

The way a painting looks before it’s completion just looks like brush stokes on a canvas. Even after the artistic process is finished, art is never perfect. Some may scratch their heads and look sideways at it, but yet it’s still art. And every single person holds a brush. It’s our choice to decide if we’re going to give up in the center of the madness or paint it to an imperfect completion.