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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
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Misplaced Lens Cap
Today's Document
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

Origami Around

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Kaledo Art

Love Begins
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@corvusr3gina
manic (gansey) pixie (blue) dream (ronan) girl (adam)

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“I try not to look in the mirror too much. Madness lies that way – looking in the mirror is not where the truth is. The beauty of wearing contact lenses is that I can take them out at the end of the day and the world becomes beautifully blurred. It makes more sense like that than it does in sharp vision.” — Felicity Jones
"i find the way that the language of ‘wokeness’ (a word bastardized by white tongues who colonized it and made it filthy, who removed it from its home and context) has been weaponized to hide or perpetuate conservative values beyond sickening. words used to mean things. the unread are throwing around accusations of being out of touch for expecting basic cultural literacy like rice at a wedding, not aware that they are revealing their own views on class- on who they believe the arts are for." - ayan artan, in defence of pretension
"if you remove empathy and open-mindedness- the two traits i would argue art alone can teach us- from the way medicine is practiced or policy is passed, what are we left with? it was cold, reasonable ‘rationalism’ that gave us slavery and has allowed the perpetuating of genocides the world over. the removal of humanness from our thinking has resulted in the acceptance of xenophobia. it was cold, selective rationalism that allowed europeans to experiment on african patients.
art is the curing of callousness. we have doctors who heal our bodies, psychiatrists who are tasked with healing our minds. it is information, books, paintings, films that can heal our souls. this war on knowing is in reality a war on feeling. on thinking. you will never come across a well-read zionist." - ayan artan, in defence of pretension
something different than usual but very profound & crucial in today's political climate. thank you to this wonderful author for untangling my own thoughts and articulating them so well <3
the other day i was thinking about what really connects declan & jordan from the dreamer trilogy and i think one really important characteristic that they share is that they've both had to sacrifice their own autonomy for the people they care about. declan pretends to be boring white man #314 for the sake of ronan and matthew's safety, whereas jordan has spent her life in hennessy's shadow as a mere copy. and maggie stiefvater threads them together by this so that they sort of find solace with one another.
by being themselves, essentially.
About noon, an arrow entered Joan’s body, just above her left breast, at exactly the place she had prophesied to her confessor on her way from Chinon to Orléans. She fell back, in shock and in great pain. She wept, despite her foreknowledge of the nature of her wound. It is was though she were surprised, not that she had been struck by an arrow, but that it would hurt.
— Mary Gordon, Joan of Arc

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is darth jar jar real help (why does the republic class venator star destroyer look exactly like him . . . the sad eyes are the same idk)
me hyping myself up before buying something from the cashier: alright i got this i got this i got this i am a perfectly normal human being with perfectly non-sweaty hands
When her pale body had decayed in the water It happened (very slowly) that God gradually forgot her, First her face, then her hands and right in the end, her hair. Then she became carrion in rivers with much carrion.
— Bertolt Bretch, Of the Drowned Girl
I should tell you about my first love who found a trapdoor under my left breast nine years ago, fell in and hasn’t been seen since. Every now and then I feel something crawling up my thigh. He should make himself known, I’d probably let him out. I hope he hasn’t bumped in to the others, the missing boys from small towns, with pleasant mothers, who did bad things and got lost in the maze of my hair. I treat them well enough, a slice of bread, if they’re lucky a piece of fruit. Except for Johnny with the blue eyes, who picked my locks and crawled in. Silly boy, chained to the basement of my fears, I play music to drown him out.
— Warsan Shire, The House
Is that life after death — mind living on paper and flesh living in offspring?
— Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

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someone mentions padmé amidala:
me: *does thirteen backflips in a row while quoting "so this is how liberty dies, to thunderous applause" and wearing her loyalist committee outfit*
ronan in the raven boys: i'm always straight
literally ronan in every other book after that: i am madly fucking in love with adam parrish
Now I know what loneliness is, I think. Momentary loneliness, anyway. It comes from a vague core of the self — like a disease of the blood, dispersed throughout the body so that one cannot locate the matrix, the spot of contagion.
— Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
watching the clone wars and palpatine looks more and more punchable every episode . . . that sneaky bitch is always thinking he's so freaking great (i mean yeah he was bound to win the clone wars no matter which side won but let's look past that)
Mother says there are locked rooms inside all women, kitchen of love, bedroom of grief, bathroom of apathy. Sometimes, the men, they come with keys, and sometimes the men, they come with hammers.
— Warsan Shire, The House

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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You painted a naked woman because you enjoyed looking at her, put a mirror in her hand and you called the painting “Vanity,” thus morally condemning the woman whose nakedness you had depicted for your own pleasure.
— John Berger, Ways of Seeing
babe, what do you mean you're not fully one hundred percent head over heels in love with me? what was the point of this homoerotic friendship during which we always hugged for 0.5 seconds too long?