#We still love you

[idiotspacecowboy]

[therighthandofvengeance]

“My shoes are too tight, but it’s okay— I have forgotten how to dance.”

He’s literally doing the Macarena?

[samirafee]

#IN LOVING MEMORY of NILS😽🌈❤️

@samirafee

[tonys-fav-bitch]

[watermelon-jooce]

i love how the majority of OMORI swap aus just include basil more

like aww did you miss him?

did you need him?

do you love him?

TOO BAD

𝘚𝘏𝘖𝘖𝘛𝘚 𝘏𝘐𝘔 1500 𝘛𝘐𝘔𝘌𝘚

[theeleventhhour]

Such a crowd just for them im-

[whatever-dude]

Aw Geno :(

[the-names-ines]

JUSTICE FOR KÄÄRIJÄ!

[wenellyb]

Danny cut his hair, I’m gonna need a minute or two😭

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Hey now, Let her cook!

[samirafee]

#IN LOVING MEMORY OF CRÜMEL🌈💔

2007 - July 11th, 2019

YOU LEFT PAWPRINTS ON MY HEART

🤦🏼‍♀️💔🐾

@samirafee

[the-whispers-of-death]

its 1am and i should stop being a little freak in the asks, but i cant help it when its my full time job and if i stop i die. anyways. goodnight kisses for stone. kisses for all the stones... both from me and for sylvester...

maybe i should put on shitty lipstick so it transfers and leaves marks everywhere... augh.

~ rusty

Me: *staring at the ask you gave me an hour after this one*

Me: I don't think you went to sleep.

[noknowshame]

why is religious Christmas imagery all so joyful and pleasant? where is the inherent horror of the birth of Christ? A mother is handed her newborn child, wailing and innocent. Her hands come away sticky. Red. Simply by giving her son life she has already killed him. He is doomed from the beginning. Her love will not save him from suffering. Because the thing cradled in her arms is not a baby, it is a sacrifice: born amongst the other bleating animals whose blood will one day be spilled in the name of what demands it. the night is silent with anticipation. Mary, did you know? That your womb was also a grave?

[inkskinned]

because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.

you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.

you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.

don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.

if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.

you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:

how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!

aren't you happy yet?

[egophiliac]

tsum events really are just the best, huh