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today in "google AI is fucking useless because it hallucinates things that never happened", i bought a couple CVS thermometers that have both been acting up, tried to search if there had been a problem with the whole product line:

there is no record of this product recall. it did not happen. the date "feb 8 2024" is the date someone listed a thermometer for sale on ebay.

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making fun of americans is pretty much always ok if youre not doing it in an edgelord “you guys have so many school shootings” way or acting like we’re the only country that has racism. but like posts about americans and hamburger get me every time

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While reading over the demon’s contract, you realize it was riddled with typos. Notably, ‘soul’ was misspelled as ‘sole’. You thought the demon would be pissed when you handed him 100 pairs of shoes as payment, but he just started to laugh hysterically and clap.

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A computer is a type of inefficient space heater that can display pictures of boobs.[1]

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This a a reminder to not fall victim to the sunk-cost fallacy. Just because you invested time and energy into something, does not mean you should indefinitely waste more time and energy on it, if you decide it’s not what you want anymore. This goes for anything, from books, to relationships, to jobs, to hobbies, etc.

If it’s not serving you anymore, move on.

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You are an immortal, having to deal with the rather troublesome rumour that your blood grants immortal life. However, what those after your blood don’t know is that since you can’t die, you are an excellent host to several deadly bacteria and viruses-all existing peacefully in your blood.

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A supervillain known for going on tangents during a monologue has captured the hero. The hero broke free of the restraints a while ago but pretends to remain captured to see how off topic the supervillain will get.

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sunrise / sunset

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Writing Description Notes: Mental Pain

Updated 3rd June 2024 More description notes

The hallucinations were the same as being tortured for real, all of the emotions, all of the trauma, and none of the empathy that would come with such a real life ordeal.

There was something in that shout, a pain behind it. John watched. He watched Jane’s eyes. Then he knew. The anger was nothing but a shield for pain, like a cornered soldier randomly throwing out grenades, scared for his life, lonely, desperate. He breathed in real slowly. What if nothing blew up? What if there were no consequences? Wouldn't John have to calm down? Wouldn't the shield clatter to the ground and let the pain tumble out?

John sees Jane. He does. He sees pain in her eyes. It has sat there for her lifetime, trapped in the confusion we all carry. He sees love too, the love she would have given were it not for the scars. It's still there, and one day he will set her free. John is not perfect, yet he loves her, and he knows what love means. He asks for a chance to find his feet, to stop his own head from spinning, and he will prove it. There is so much of her life that is a hell for her soul, and she stays there from strength rather than weakness, he knows. So he wants to join her in that pain, walk with her, feel the same torture he knows she bears. And one day, he will find just the right way to bring her home, his love.

Jane's emotional pain seeps out in her words, and it hurts John to hear them, hurts to read them. He senses what is inside that troubles her, yet also there is so much goodness there too—bravery, tenacity. She holds on like a fighter, every morning rising at the ringing of "the bell." All he can offer her is a brighter horizon, a hope that one day she will be free of all this. One day there will be choice, freedom, and security of food, shelter on a healthy Earth. 

Emotional pain leaves invisible scars, yet they can be traced by the most gentle of touch.

Nobody wants to hurt, yet if John's pains can be used to help others, he feels blessed. Anyhow, perhaps his scars are his road-map; maybe he would be lost without them.

He turned towards him, a pained expression plastered across his face, teeth clenched as he tried to steady his breathing.

Gripping the ground as hard as he could to take some of the pain away.

It was as if a thousand needles of doubt and self-loathing were piercing her heart with each passing moment, leaving behind a tapestry of scars that only she could see.

It was as though a veil of sadness had been draped over her eyes, distorting her perception of the world and casting everything in shades of gray.

The weight of sorrow was a constant companion, pressing down on his shoulders until he felt he might collapse under its burden.

Her mind was a battlefield, each thought a landmine ready to explode with memories she wished she could forget.

The storm inside his head raged on, a relentless barrage of thoughts and fears that left him feeling exhausted and defeated.

It was as if a dark cloud had settled over his soul.

Her chest felt hollow, a yawning emptiness where joy and peace once resided, now replaced by a gnawing ache.

His mind was a prison denying him the freedom to live fully.

She felt like she was drowning in an ocean of despair, every attempt to surface met with another wave of hopelessness.

Every laugh felt hollow, every smile forced, as if she were playing a role in a play she didn't want to be in.

She felt like a ghost, wandering through life unnoticed, her pain invisible to everyone but herself.

The nights were the worst, when the darkness outside matched the darkness within, and sleep was a distant dream.

It was like a fire burning within, consuming all that was good and leaving behind nothing but ashes of what used to be.

The pain was a silent scream, a cry for help that no one could hear.

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JANCEMBER WEDDING Dress 2024 if you want to support this blog consider donating to: ko-fi.com/fashionrunways

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You cannot believe your eyes. "…D-Dad?!" The man who vanished from your life sixteen years ago, the man who just spontaneously popped into existence in your kitchen clutching, of all things a large crate of milk and a glowing sword, stares at you nervously. "OK, first of all, I can explain…

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You've heard a lot of the whole "is this 200-year-old immortal vampire dating a 23-year-old grooming?" but actually the direction that's WAY funnier to me is if the long-lived race the questionable one. "Is this 23-year-old human grooming this 80-year-old elf because actually elves aren't mature until they're 100"

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Thomas Mann, from “Death in Venice”, originally published c. 1912.

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This may sound mean, but...

If you send me an ask containing links to Good Omens fan fiction you think I should read, I'll delete it. Do it again and I'll (regretfully) block you. This is a general blanket sort of thing -- I don't want to read it, legally I can't read it, no I won't make it into the next series, and, no matter how pure your motives, it's crossing a line.

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Solidarity. 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜