•hah gay•

the year is 2030. I am on trial because after a cyber truck cut me off at an intersection I went online and posted "I hope all cybertruck owners die" and our vice president Elon musk took this as a direct threat against his life so now I am facing 20 years in prison. However as the opposing lawyer tries to pull up the post he forgets that the government has recently shut down tumblr for containing too many gay sex images. Since he has an iphone he has not taken a screenshot because apple no longer allows screenshots to be taken on any of their devices. No one can find any evidence the post ever existed. The judge gives me 30 years anyway because my hair looks ever so slightly shorter than the mandated 8 inches required for women, plus he owns a cybertruck too

Lord, grant me the strength to throw away this box that i'll never use, the courage to throw away this box that i'll never use, and the wisdom to throw away this box that i'll never use

i am simultaneously self-improving and being self destructive dont ask me how i just am

i'm always a bit unsettled by disdain for intellectual or creative labor in leftist spaces. there's this commonly held belief that academics are a bunch of rich old white men, rather than a wide variety of people who are barely getting by. most lecturers in universities are adjuncts living paycheck to paycheck. authors make very little money as a general rule. most researchers are overworked and underpaid. and yet there's still this idea that academics are overcompensated to sit around and smoke cigars together while making shit up

I hope you guys think I’m cool. I’m not, but I hope you think so anyway.

Write trashy poems, make garbage art, sing off-tune, dance disgracefully, make wonky pottery, take bad pictures, act terribly, design horrid things, write raucous melodies. The world won't stop moving if you make "hideous" art, but keep repressing your innate human instinct to create, and your soul might. You're worth so much more than that.

maidens if you are going to flee dramatically from my castle in the middle of the night once i reveal my true nature to you please leave your candelabra on the little ledge by the portcullis we are running out of them

starting to think these maidens are stumbling in soaked through from the rain just to steal my beautiful gowns and homewear are any of you actually lost

At the checkout in Home Goods loading the belt with nothing but candelabras in all shapes & sizes while the cashier watches sympathetically and asks if it’s the maidens again

girls will be like hm this song reminds me of the most tragic thing that has happened to me I think I'll listen to it on loop