Frickin' Muy Delicioso @dancpharmd - Tumblr Blog

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thevelvetgoldmine

R.I.P. Tony Todd (December 4, 1954 – November 6, 2024)

missdandy

nobrashfestivity

collected by Broomberg and Chanarin

saygoodnight2theworld

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nobrashfestivity

collected by Broomberg and Chanarin

memewhore

Sometimes I feel like the only real person on Tumblr lol

beardedmrbean

theman

I GOT A FUCKING RAISE THE POTATO WORKED WTF

tattooedzombigirl

This potato works. Every. Fucking. Time.

secondlina

Reblogging because it’s a damn potato and I want to encourage people to assume potatoes are magical.

sinksanksockie2

w-what if potato is actually lucky

furryprovocateur

"the writer's strike could stop the MCU from making new movies for months!" fuck dont dirtytalk me like that. it's only 9:34 am

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embroiderycrafts

A fun little project from a while ago :) by franny294

libraryofva

Recent Acquisition - Photograph Collection

1964 New York World's Fair Unidentified Virginia family photograph

havingrevelations-deactivated20

mental illness made me so desperate for joy that i forgot it was this simple… feeling the ocean against your skin… a really good guitar riff… sun on your back… holding the door for a stranger… a cold shower on a hot day…….. the world is like a cradle and i am just a little baby. eyes wide open there is so much to see

reading-writing-revolution

tehjleck

Only a DEEPLY INSECURE and extremely FRAGILE CONSERVATIVE SNOWFLAKE would need a fucking assault rifle to get coffee.

sonnywortzik

i’ve mentioned this here before, but it will remain one of the most ideologically influential experiences of my life: when i was in fifth grade i did a report on post traumatic stress as manifested in veterans of the vietnam war, and my father did me the huge favor of connecting me w/ a vietnam vet friend of his who was diagnosed with PTSD, assuring him that while i was only ten i was bright and curious and he should be as honest with me about his experience as possible.

i remember entering his office with my tape recorder, sitting in a chair that was too big, and asking him questions about war, and his life after war, while swinging my legs over the edge of the chair. i remember being very, very quiet as he spoke of pulling the car over on the highway for fear of crashing when his hands would shake uncontrollably in response to song on the radio or a smell that he couldn’t be sure was real or sense-memory. and of ruined relationships and anger and american hypocrisy.

and i also remember that was the day i learned what “valor” meant. he used “valor” in a sentence and i didn’t know that word, and when i asked him to explain “valor” he became very quiet. and i can’t remember precisely what he said, if he ever offered me the dictionary definition or not, but i do remember him looking very sad, and saying something about our country’s idea of “valor”, and also something about a broken promise. and there was an edge to his words that i couldn’t parse at the time that i would later come to understand was bitterness, that he sounded bitter.

to this day i can’t hear or read the word “valor” without seeing sunlight coming through his office window at a slant, close-to-sunset light, and feeling the kind of quiet, confused, completely internalized panic a child feels when they sense that a grown up is trying very hard not to weep in their presence.

creative-anchorage

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wilwheaton

roach-works

listen. aging into your thirties rocks. yes your joints get a little creaky. yes you can’t sleep in a pretzel on the floor anymore after a concert or a convention. and you lose some friends. but the thing is that you sort out who your real friends are and you sort out who you really are. and you get to see your friends settling into careers they like, and adopt new dogs and cats, and you find a job you can stand, and get really good at arts and crafts, and maybe that book you loved as a kid gets a movie deal and it doesn’t suck, and you learn to like new food and bake your own bread, and you realize that the great portfolio of self harm scars you all used to curate are going white with age and not updated, and half your friends are a different gender now and so much happier and maybe you are too, and you know who you are, and that it’s a journey and not a revelation. it’s a direction you’re headed, and you’re enjoying the trip.

reaching your 30′s rocks. and i’m hearing good things about what comes next, too.

roach-works

i am looking into your eyes, i am holding your hand. i absolutely promise.

if you can just live long enough, your soul will build your body into a home. you will live there and you will find a way to be at peace. it’s worth the time and it’s worth the work. i promise.

hubblegleeflower

Your soul will build your body into a home.

thelittleblackfox

Seriously guys. Hold out until your thirties, it gets so much better. You get to be yourself, and no one can stop you

unreconstructedfangirl

And more than that, wait until your 40s and 50s, when you stop caring what naysayers think about who you are because you KNOW, and you are ok with it. Wait until you realise that even at the unimaginable age of 50 (and beyond!) you are still a changing, growing, learning human being, only now you can just let so much bullshit go (shame, fear…) and just live into your greatest loves. Wait until you find your people and start to feel like you have something to give because you aren’t just barely holding yourself together anymore. Wait until the love you feel is freer, less greedy and grasping and more just a thing that gloriously exists and lights you up from the inside, like your heart is a hearth that the people you love warm themselves by.

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