#the choice to be on a body of water

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Something something about Kim filming 13 episodes of ‘failed systems’ (such a hilarious and fascinating choice of show title!) and only 7 being aired and how Chris is now about 13 and was 7 when Shannon died and the play on what Shannon being present (as in alive) for 7 years of Chris’s life but not the remaining 6 of the 13 - years that Eddie has imagined her presence in even though that can never be - dreams of years that will never see the light of day in the same way those 6episodes won’t either.

The whole thing is a play on false hope and misreading signs and puts Chris right at the centre of things even in his absence - I’m obsessed

[pickled-flowers]

Aaaand Lysandre

[yourlocaldisneyvillain]

uh, ladies? i don't feel ready to turn 27

[theinfinitedivides]

so Dong Soo is just going to go about the rest of his life hallucinating the ghost of his dead ex inside the house he killed him to get a la 'you'll die in me i'll be you / can't you see? you are me' Jekyll and Hyde musical. is that what they're looking me in the face and telling me rn

[quietwingsinthesky]

like not to turn into a rhack blog for a minute (holy shit this game came out in 2014, does anyone even still ship these two) but. Extremely gay for a guy to try and take over your body, trap you in the crashing space station you’ve sentenced him to die in, insert himself back into your skull just for a chance to choke you out even if it means killing himself in the process, and then get on his knees begging you not to kill him again.

[catilinas]

cicero, pro archia poeta 24 trans. n.h. watts

[frogaroundandfindout]

Kory finds out Mirage did nude photo shoots for Centerfold while disguised as her

[abyssalpriest]

"omg when you're doing something new like playing poker or golf and he comes behind you and holds your arms to help you play... So romantic..." ok but have you had your god puppet your body subtly. Have you felt his energy slowly vibrating inside your flesh. Have you felt your nerves become tiny tubes through which you now feel him like a basket star spread. Have you felt the parasite expansions of slow moving abyssal divinity begin to drown your own mind in deep seawater to the point your head is always above the surface, kept there by him letting you maintain control, while he holds and drowns the rest of you. Have you walked with the distinct impression of someone else inside your limbs, muscles, your body inhabited by two. Have you had his hands on your fate strings and impulses and him recreating himself inside your instincts.

[zvaigzdelasas]

I don’t have a tumblr, I just lurk blogs I find interesting. Not joking. Don’t know why you are responding in this way, if I am honest.

Tumblr allows that?? that's so funny

[reikunrei]

sleepy bc I accidentally stayed up late monologuing to myself about how free! really should have ended for the nth time 🥴

[marshmallowprotection]

Kait, I'm so happy to hear that you're safe! What you've done is incredibly brave, you should be proud of yourself!

I can also imagine that it's incredibly exhausting. Please take all the time you need to rest and recover, and don't apologize for being inactive. You always give us so much support, now it's our turn to support you <33

I'm doing okay, thanks for checking on me, Faye! It still hasn't hit me quite yet that I made a decision that was bold and decisive. It's one of those things where you have to look before you leap if you want anything to get better. I did a lot of things I didn't think I was capable of and in that regard, I can say that I'm proud of myself for being able to feel like a person with my own autonomy. It's going to take a little bit for me to feel like myself again. But I'm sure most people understand that. When you've been put down your entire life, it can make the moment when you step out into the sun without looking behind your shoulder to see if something's chasing you feel overwhelming. The good news is that I'm going to be okay.

In the same vein that I know Saeran and Saeyoung will be okay.

[nexus-nebulae]

urgh i love waking up and finding out i immediately have to leave the house

[hafwen]

I want to take my nightly bath but I’m so nervous I’ll over do it again and I really don’t want another episode

[fencesandfrogs]

idk if i've ever shared this but i was embarrassed of my lack of geography knowledge so in high school i downloaded a mega deck of geography flashcards and memorized the location, capital, and flag of every single country.

anyway i found one for bodies of water.

[loveofastarvingdog]

feel like shit! just wanna go back to [insert whatever]

[mcmansionhell]

we've found it folks: mcmansion heaven

Hello everyone. It is my pleasure to bring you the greatest house I have ever seen. The house of a true visionary. A real ad-hocist. A genuine pioneer of fenestration. This house is in Alabama. It was built in 1980 and costs around $5 million. It is worth every penny. Perhaps more.

Now, I know what you're thinking: "Come on, Kate, that's a little kooky, but certainly it's not McMansion Heaven. This is very much a house in the earthly realm. Purgatory. McMansion Purgatory." Well, let me now play Beatrice to your Dante, young Pilgrim. Welcome. Welcome, welcome, welcome.

It is rare to find a house that has everything. A house that wills itself into Postmodernism yet remains unable to let go of the kookiest moments of the prior zeitgeist, the Bruce Goffs and Earthships, the commune houses built from car windshields, the seventies moments of psychedelic hippie fracture. It is everything. It has everything. It is theme park, it is High Tech. It is Renaissance (in the San Antonio Riverwalk sense of the word.) It is medieval. It is maybe the greatest pastiche to sucker itself to the side of a mountain, perilously overlooking a large body of water. Look at it. Just look.

The inside is white. This makes it dreamlike, almost benevolent. It is bright because this is McMansion Heaven and Gray is for McMansion Hell. There is an overbearing sheen of 80s optimism. In this house, the credit default swap has not yet been invented, but could be.

It takes a lot for me to drop the cocaine word because I think it's a cheap joke. But there's something about this example that makes it plausible, not in a derogatory way, but in a liberatory one, a sensuous one. Someone created this house to have a particular experience, a particular feeling. It possesses an element of true fantasy, the thematic. Its rooms are not meant to be one cohesive composition, but rather a series of scenes, of vastly different spatial moments, compressed, expanded, bright, close.

And then there's this kitchen for some reason. Or so you think. Everything the interior design tries to hide, namely how unceasingly peculiar the house is, it is not entirely able to because the choices made here remain decadent, indulgent, albeit in a more familiar way.

Rare is it to discover an interior wherein one truly must wear sunglasses. The environment created in service to transparency has to somewhat prevent the elements from penetrating too deep while retaining their desirable qualities. I don't think an architect designed this house. An architect would have had access to specifically engineered products for this purpose. Whoever built this house had certain access to architectural catalogues but not those used in the highest end or most structurally complex projects. The customization here lies in the assemblage of materials and in doing so stretches them to the height of their imaginative capacity. To borrow from Charles Jencks, ad-hoc is a perfect description. It is an architecture of availability and of adventure.

A small interlude. We are outside. There is no rear exterior view of this house because it would be impossible to get one from the scrawny lawn that lies at its depths. This space is intended to serve the same purpose, which is to look upon the house itself as much as gaze from the house to the world beyond.

Living in a city, I often think about exhibitionism. Living in a city is inherently exhibitionist. A house is a permeable visible surface; it is entirely possible that someone will catch a glimpse of me they're not supposed to when I rush to the living room in only a t-shirt to turn out the light before bed. But this is a space that is only exhibitionist in the sense that it is an architecture of exposure, and yet this exposure would not be possible without the protection of the site, of the distance from every other pair of eyes. In this respect, a double freedom is secured. The window intimates the potential of seeing. But no one sees.

At the heart of this house lies a strange mix of concepts. Postmodern classicist columns of the Disney World set. The unpolished edge of the vernacular. There is also an organicist bent to the whole thing, something more Goff than Gaudí, and here we see some of the house's most organic forms, the monolith- or shell-like vanity mixed with the luminous artifice of mirrors and white. A backlit cave, primitive and performative at the same time, which is, in essence, the dialectic of the luxury bathroom.

And yet our McMansion Heaven is still a McMansion. It is still an accumulation of deliberate signifiers of wealth, very much a construction with the secondary purpose of invoking envy, a palatial residence designed without much cohesion. The presence of golf, of wood, of masculine and patriarchal symbolism with an undercurrent of luxury drives that point home. The McMansion can aspire to an art form, but there are still many levels to ascend before one gets to where God's sitting.

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