Not today Justin
Sweet Seals For You, Always
noise dept.
Claire Keane
roma★
Misplaced Lens Cap
hello vonnie
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
$LAYYYTER
almost home
Keni
Love Begins
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
tannertan36
i don't do bad sauce passes
taylor price
Janaina Medeiros
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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@axelshooter
It's probably downstream of just bone-deep pathological atomized liberalism but I really truly don't get the appeal of stories with the overarching theme of 'happiness comes from following the wisdom of tradition/submitting to the will of providence/listening to your inherent nature/Trusting the System, trying to preserve your autonomy is just childish pique that leads to misery'.
Like I watched enough after school specials when I was in school, thanks.
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One of my all-time favorite Worm moments still has to be when Taylor meets Scapegoat. They trade injuries, he goes “you’re fucking blind?!” and spends the rest of the chapter being dragged around by his teammates while Taylor looks on thinking “I wonder if his power makes the damage worse for him?” Meanwhile she’s in so much less pain than before that she describes the feeling as euphoric. My dissociative queen 🪲
Yippie
It's not a huge deal compared to everything else going on but I notice that fandom often does this thing where they look at a character who canonically shows attraction to both men and women but is maybe GNC in some way and it's like they forget bisexuality exists and attempt to guess sexual orientation based on appearances or vibes rather than canon.
That bisexual guy isn't strictly gay just because he cries a lot and is "faggy".
That bisexual woman isn't strictly gay just because she's physically strong, violent, and emotionally distant.
Sometimes people are bisexual.
Huh? No, long hair is when it goes down to your waist. Hair down to your shoulders is still pretty short....
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thinking about this tag on my post again. i'm saying this all the time forever
would sakiko togawa use elfkin rp forums
no but only because she doesn't know what internet roleplay is
but if she did know, the Ave Mujica would have never happened
My favourite part of the movie Corpse Bride is when the bride accuses her murderer of murdering her and the guy flips out and insists that the animate corpse who returned from the grave to implicate him is “clearly delusional”, like what a fucking legend.
That feeling when your gaslight reflex is so strong that it overpowers your fear of the undead
There's a recurring online tendency to aestheticize consensus itself. The imagined future village is full of emotionally compatible people who enjoy communal gardening, conflict resolution circles, acoustic folk music, mutual aid potlucks, and repairing bicycles together at sunset. Which is nice for the people who genuinely enjoy that lifestyle. But plenty of humans are solitary, prickly, obsessive, urban, nocturnal, sensory-seeking, technologically attached, contrarian, novelty-seeking, private, or just plain difficult. Those people do not evaporate after the revolution. They do not get Left Behind while you are Raptured into the Utopia. They become your neighbors.
the mantra for pilots is "aviate, navigate, communicate" in that order, meaning "fly the damn plane" first (don't enter an unrecoverable state) and then make sure you're going in the right direction and then talk to air traffic control, basically pay attention to the three things that can get you into trouble in the order of how fast that trouble can arrive.
temporal priority aside though, actually carrying out these objectives requires understanding, the most important currency of any complex activity: flying the plane is largely a mechanical procedure if you understand which angle it's pointing and how fast it's going and what autopilot mode it's in but a hellish nightmare if you don't, navigation and communication are also straightforward if you're keeping track of what's going on, but accidents usually result from the kind of confusion where people don't realise they are confused and are too busy or distracted to stop and notice they've lost touch with reality.
I think about that while driving but also these days while carrying out AI assisted software engineering, which has made understanding what's going on even more important than it used to be; the connection with flight is that it's easy to slip into the mode of developing while distracted and not realise you're doing so, and failures of understanding can take some time to manifest as critical problems.
This reminds me of how calculators can become a problem for some people: you need to know enough math to understand what you’re doing with the calculator, and enough math to understand what it spits out.
Applying the wrong formula won’t magically result in the calculator giving you the right answer.
garbage in, garbage out, or in the words of Charles Babbage:
On two occasions I have been asked [by members of Parliament], 'Pray, Mr. Babbage, if you put into the machine wrong figures, will the right answers come out?' I am not able rightly to apprehend the kind of confusion of ideas that could provoke such a question.
and politicians never got better at understanding computers 😌
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(Source - 159cm0630 on twitter)
(source - 159cm0630 on twitter)
My incredibly bleak philosophy of compassion is that we should all pity each other horribly and practice an according amount of kindness.
I asked for a pastry at the coffee shop. When I raised my card up to pay, he simply said "you're good." and waved it away. I wondered why. I wondered what made him think I deserved to have my order be free. Sparing me those two dollars.
Sitting down at the table, I remembered the scars on my arm. The universal signifier of "This Kid Needs Help." Maybe his kindness was only out of pity. He saw those and assumed there was some great misery and wanted to offer me some relief. It's generally good to be kind to people who are hurting. But I wasn't hurting that bad.
The thing is, there is some great misery. People generally aren't doing that great. There is a great misery within me and within him and within everyone, and some people notice the pain, some people express it, others don't. But we all suffer from something.
It doesn't matter if someone seems to deserve some relief. Everyone needs it. Everyone is suffering constantly. Some more than others, but still. This Kid Needs Help applies to everyone.
Thirty minutes later, I went to get a second pastry, intending to pay and leave a tip this time. It was the same cashier. As he reached to grab it for me, I saw scars on his arm.
But it doesn't really matter. He'd deserve a tip anyway. Because it's never just us hurting.
Most lethal heal in all of Pharloom
I am just watching this on repeat that is WONDERFUL
Personally? I would never deny Hiromu Arakawa her right to a short bratty braided blond character in a kickass red coat
Invent a look this iconic and I think you should get to use it in every series.
It was actually her assistants conspiring lmao
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So this has been stuck in my head ever since I heard it three days ago.
this is the polar opposite of Everybody Knows Shits Fucked
i didn’t know this til i looked up the video on youtube, but this dude is a super cool and accomplished musician! his name is Rushad Eggleston–wikipedia describes him as “an innovative musician who has changed the way the cello is played,“ but according to his personal website he’s a “cello goblin & otherworldly jester currently touring earth”
There is a reality not so far from our own in which Ratitouille (2007) was filmed as an avant-garde conceptual horror akin to Eraserhead (1977)
There is a young American man in France. His mother has passed away. He has few friends, and works the thankless job of a bus boy in a prestigious restaurant, but dreams of becoming a chef despite having very little skill.
He returns one night to his humble apartment, which is known to have vermin, and comes across a rat, which he could easily kill or set loose on the street.
But the rat- it is special. It seems to speak to him. Promises him every little thing he desires- talent, fame, and fortune. Recognition and esteem like he has only ever seen from afar; fine company like the wealthy men and women whose scraps he picks at over the sink.
Put me on your head, the rat says. Put me on your head and think of nothing.
It is strange at first, yes. Strange to feel another take control of his life and live it better than he ever could. To see miraculous things created with his own two hands, to feel his feet move in graceful and fantastic ways with a confidence he has never had.
But the rat delivers as he had promised: he receives promotions, notoriety, admiration. He is noticed. Envied. Every day is a waking dream, rubbing elbows with beautiful women and handsome men and influential personalities who lavish him with praise. It is addictive, this lifestyle- never mind that he is only ever truly conscious of it as a passenger of in own brain.
It is when he has reached heights few can ever conceive, with all that the rat had ever promised- a beautiful wife in a beautiful house with all the world in his palm, in possession of all the wealth and success a man could ever want, that the rat says that it is leaving.
Leaving? The rat cannot leave. Everything he is, the rat has provided.
"I have delivered on our bargain", the rat says. "I have brought to you all that you have ever dreamed. What more could you desire? I must live my own life, now."
The man is furious. He is terrified. He destroys the rat, in all of the ways that a rat can be destroyed, until nothing is left of it but a fine smear of marinara sauce.
He returns to the restaurant the next day moving like the shell of something hollowed-out and brittle. He cooks well- his fingers remember the movements, his eyes recognize the patterns, his mouth knows without his asking what orders to speak and what platitudes make patrons smile pleasantly with their straight white teeth.
He retains the talents of the rat. The charm of the rat. All the worldly pleasures the rat had provided him.
Still, it seems, he is little more than a vessel for the talents of the rat.
But the rat is gone.
What remains of the man?
You see my vision
