somewhere a group of weird little girls is accidentally practicing a ritual that got forgotten 3000 years ago. brings me peace 

Wasn’t this the toy that scared a kid real bad so they ran away screaming only since it follows sound it just chased this poor screaming kid all over the place?

yep that’s the one

This is one of my husband’s favorite short stories. He quotes it from memory. I’m pretty sure he can recite the entire thing from memory.

This is a tremendously impactful short story and every time I see it, it serves as an excellent reboot button for my state of mind.

OMG THAT ENDING WOW

white person: *eats chicken tikka masala once* i just…. i feel so connected… to indian culture …. I’m learning to speak islam…. check out my third eye….. chakra

Every time I see this. Every damn time. I’m immediately sucked back into my fuckin. Fuckin English lit class with Mr. Fuckass McShit. Mr. “Hit the gong to begin class”, “Namaste, Children”, “I wanna go backpacking in India to find my spiritual awakening and also my left burkinstock that I lost during a cedar sauna drum circle” ass bastard. “Do you want to share your poetry with the class to get in touch with your emotions” ass fucker. Mr. “Here’s a photograph of a tribal shaman, describe him using nature words” asshole. Pretentious-ass, condescending motherfucker. “Do you want to tell us about your saddest memory?” “I dunno, sir. Are you giving me an option?” “No.” “Then why are you asking” Every goddamn day. Fuck. “You seem tense.” Oh, I seem tense? I seem tense. Well fuck, Professor Pillsbury, maybe I ‘seem tense’ because I walk into a room on five hours of sleep to the sound of a goddamn brass gong drilling through my brain and your seven-foot-nine, socks-and-sandals-wearing, patchouli-smelling ass immediately gravitates in my direction with some shit like “a tree……… Is a Poem” and I gotta sit here and politely tell you that No I’m Not Comfortable Telling The Class About A Time I Was Emotionally Vulnerable With A Loved One using words that sound like the way the color yellow smells. Maybe I don’t wanna sit in a circle and hold hands with Brittney from Computer Sciences to “align our auras” or some shit. Fuck. Fuuuuuuck. I swear to God, if I wanted to sing ‘kumbaya’ with a smelly old guy with gross facial hair who writes bad porn on the side, I’d go out to the parking lot and share a Hookah with Crazy Dan, the disgraced electrician. What, I don’t wanna do an interpretive dance to represent the spiritual experience of eating Quinoa in a room full of ambivalent preteens and suddenly I’m the ‘troubled youth’ you need to Robin Williams “O Captain My Captain” your way into having a Paternal Bonding Moment powerful enough to Expand My Impressionable Young Mind and Turn My Life Around, you goddamn saint, you? Jesus Fucking Christ. You insufferable jackass. You’re not “Enlightened”, you rolled out of bed and ate half a pot brownie, wrote a sad song about a leaf, and strolled into class to ramble about your Spirit Animal for six hours straight before calling it a day. Holy Jesus goddamned Christ. Fucking Balls, sir. Holy Fucking Balls

my ability to attract misfortune is so bad that i genuinely worry about stuff like accidentally rear ending a guy who turns out to be a wizard who's already having a really bad day and getting my entire bloodline cursed over it

wait a minute

each day is like a franz kafka diary entry and each month is like the twilight circle camera scene

wheres seasons greasons

its that time of year again

It doesn’t have to be

its not optional

reverse gaslighting where i pretend to know exactly what you are talking about

I love how the episode is called “Chidi Sees the Time Knife”  but it has no bearing whatsoever on the plot

Sometimes you write a line and you’re just like “oh yeah, that’s a banger” and that is almost CERTAINLY what happened here